


Aether Effect

by al_fletcher



Series: Aether Effect [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Control Ending, Dragon Age IV Speculation, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Normandy-SR2, Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Post-Mass Effect 3, Prothean Fuckery, The Normandy Lands on Thedas, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-06-12 10:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 23,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15337503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/al_fletcher
Summary: The Reaper War is over. The mass relays are torn apart from the energy of the Crucible, and the Normandy crash-lands on a new and unfamiliar planet.The remnants of the erstwhile Inquisition struggle to maintain their alliances in the Tevinter Imperium, oppressors of the Elvhenan, after the revelations concerning Fen'Harel's machinations.Then, a star falls from the sky, changing everything, forever...





	1. Prologue: Trespasser

_“You don’t need to destroy this world! I’ll prove it to you…”  
_

_“I would treasure the chance to be wrong once again, vhenan.”_

Then he turned, giving one final wistful look, and was gone forever, leaving her to live with the knowledge that the man she once had loved, and who once had loved her, would now go forth with his demented plan to tear her world down, taking her with it.

She cast a look behind her, at the legion frozen forever in their final, futile, struggle against Fen’Harel – _Solas_ – and crawled to her feet, pivoting on her good hand. Rivka shuffled through the macabre gallery, studying their final defiant roars against inevitability.

The Viddasala and her forces had been the first to fight, and fall before, this so-called god. Who would be next? The Tevinters, oppressors of the elvhenan after the Evanurius had been sealed away by the Dread Wolf and their civilisation smote by the Veil? Even D-

She turned on her heel, and she saw it.

There, wielding his staff and encased in stone, was Dorian. She would recognise the line of his jaw and his curled moustaches anywhere. Rivka gasped in shock, and whirled around. Cassandra’s sword was raised in anger and her hand raised as if to stir blood afire, but no more. Sera’s bow drawn to her shoulder, its string never to be loosed against Solas.

This wasn’t real. She was in the Fade, but this wasn’t her memory of Solas – of all this. Short on breath as though desperately trying to stay afloat, Rivka stared down at her hand, the one that had until recently borne the Anchor.

It was gone.

The world around her began to silently shake and rumble, and her eyelids flitted to and fro, as she realised she was coming to.

Gasping as she broke through to the surface, or so she felt, Rivka sat up, pulse pounding in her chest like the wheels of a great machine. She could feel that her eyes, too, were wide in shock, and easing her breath, let her quilt fall to her waist. Trembling in her bed, she cast her gaze down to her left hand again, or at least where it had been.

Nothing, save the stump.

Rivka’s vision clouded as she realised tears were welling in her eyes. Wiping them away with her hand, she shuffled out of her bed, gently planting her feet on the stone floor. She turned to the narrow window and threw it open, letting the chill breeze wash over her cheeks as she looked down from high above upon Val Royeaux. 

Rivka Lavellan, Comtesse of Sundermount, Right Hand of the Divine Victoria, and Her Perfection’s Paladin-Commander stared into the sky, watching stars fall.


	2. Prologue: Crucible

He turned the Catalyst’s words in his head over and over again, even as he felt its astral gaze upon him.

 

_“You have hope. More than you think.”_

 

Far on his left, two handles were attached to a great pylon, brilliant blue-white energy. Just as far away to the right, a single panel separated a column of blood-red light. Between the two of them was a beam of verdant light, bearing down on Earth. 

God, he felt like he’d been standing here for a lifetime.

He let the pistol drop from his hand. He wouldn’t need it. Not now, or ever again. Gathering the last of his strength, he gripped the handles for all his life was worth. The pain was incredible. Every neuron in his body screamed in agony, even as his skin peeled aside flake by flake, and his hands slipped from the pylon.

 

No.

 

He hadn’t come so far just to fail now. Strangely enough, it wasn’t love or hope that raised his knees from the ground. It was spite. It was the six yellow lights on Harbinger’s shell, the soulless orbs that amounted to his “eyes”, that came to mind. Watching them turn off forever, then replaced through _his_ control – that would be more than worth it all.

Steadying himself, his strength renewed as he stared into the great beam of electric light, Commander Shepard grasped the interface once again. If he had skin left on his knuckles his grip would’ve been hard enough to turn them white. Blocking out the great rush of noise howling into what remained of his ears, Shepard recalled one final voice.

_“I’m proud of you, son.”_

Anderson. He’d been too late for him. Mordin had also died, but by his own choice, righting centuries of wrongs perpetrated on Wrex and Eve and all their people. Shepard hoped that he’d be remembered a fraction as well as his erstwhile scientist salarian.

His final thoughts were of Liara.

Not as they’d left each other on Earth, her face streaked with blood, Vega holding her back from throwing herself into the fray and stopping her from getting vaporised along with the rest of Hammer Team, but embracing her as she’d given him the last of her gifts, their thoughts becoming one as an infinite horizon came towards them…

There was nothing left to be said, or thought, or felt. It was finished.

A great wave of energy bloomed from the Crucible, bathing Earth in light, before it blasted into the Charon relay, ready to change the galaxy forever.


	3. Act 1: Ashley

Joker swiped through consoles, rapidly calibrating mass effect fields and pushing the _Normandy_ ’s thrusters as hard as they would go. To his right, EDI was compensating for the rush of nothingness coming behind them even as blue light surrounded the ship on all sides. Ashley leaned on his chair, staring at the screens as though she could make sense of them.

The only thing that anyone on board knew about Commander Shepard was that _somehow_ , even with Hammer Force eviscerated, he’d made it. The last that Ashley had seen of that slaughter was the six unblinking eyes of the Reaper, staring into the Normandy as they’d escaped the scene, apparently not worth any attention beyond its contemptuous glare. 

Then, the Crucible had exploded with blue energy, and it had been time to go.

She hadn’t liked it either, but it was her voice that left her mouth, telling Joker that they had to leave. Even as the Normandy had outrun the expanding globe of energy into the mass relay, she found herself silently mouthing a prayer for Shepard. What she _could_ discern from the displays was that they were running out of time.

Not really intending to get a meaningful answer, Ashley barked, “Status report!” 

Joker flicked his gaze in her direction before responding, “We’re going to drop out of lightspeed soon, Commander, and not by choice.”

“Where the hell _are_ we, Joker?”

It was EDI that responded, her mobile unit turning to look at Ashley, “We have been able to make two successful relay jumps since the activation of the Crucible, Lieutenant-Commander Williams. Based on astrography, our current location is within the Horse Head Nebula, but our exact position is unclear.”

Joker yelled, “Well, we’re going to find out now!”

Alerts broke out on every screen, and the _Normandy_ was now rattling even harder than the Mako on the worst days. Ashley reached for the ship-wide intercom. 

“Brace! Brace! Brace!”

As they’d been trained, the call echoed crewman by crewman throughout the ship, and everyone not already strapped in buckled up, arms leaning forward as they found something on their consoles to grip on. Ashley instinctively dove to the left, finding some purchase on the sides of the short corridor leading to the airlock. 

Then it happened. It was as though the floor had fallen away from them, then slammed into them again. Floor became wall and wall became ceiling and ceiling became floor as the _Normandy_ wildly corkscrewed, having been wrenched out of subspace. Far to their right – now left – now right again, a small dot rapidly grew larger and larger in size.

It was a planet.


	4. Lavellan

Rivka stepped out onto the walkway, a thick cloak wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn’t like she was going to be able to sleep again. The shower of stars had ended, but a million more sparkled in the sky. She shook her head, remembering how she’d gone cross-eyed at the astrariums. Now, free of that sense of obligation, she could appreciate them again for what they were.

As it turned out, there was still one last star left to fall.

This one was a lot closer, and Rivka swore that she could feel the stonework below her shake and creak as a brilliant bolt tore through the sky, heading northeast, far beyond the Waking Sea, even further than Kirkwall and Nevarra, maybe even as far as Par Vollen before it’d wink its last, and disappear forever.

She made her wish, and stepped back inside.


	5. Ashley

Ashley opened her eyes, relaxing as she let go of the walls.

Everything had stopped moving, and the _Normandy_ seemed to be in one piece. For now. Joker was held tight to his pilot’s seat by his impact webbing, and EDI also seemed to be all right, although one of her mobile unit’s eyes seemed to be a bit wonky. 

Shakily, she asked, “EDI, status report?" 

“The-the-the Normandy is relatively unharmed, given the circumstances of our emergency landing. The crew appears to have only sustained minor bruises, with the exception of Jeff. Are you all right?”

Joker winced as he reached for the release button. “Feel like I’ve broken half the bones in my arm.”

Ashley bent down and got it for him, activating the medi-gel systems in his chair with her omni-tool, which – thank god – was still working despite everything. After a few steps, Joker figured it wasn’t nearly that bad after all, and made his own way through the doorway, opening up to the CIC.

It was a mess. Cables dangled out of the ceiling and consoles sparked with flares and errors, and the crewmen strapped to their chairs slowly stirred as they, too struggled to get out of their impact webbing. Heads turned groggily at Ashley as she, Joker and EDI slowly stepped out of the cockpit, into the main cabin.

“Commander,” Ensign Copeland drawled, slowly getting to his feet. 

“At ease. Everyone, take stock of where we’re at. If it hurts, don’t move it. Anyone who’s able, grab a fire suppression system just in case,” Ashley said as she tapped experimentally at her omni-tool again. “Medical, what’s our status?”

Dr. Michel’s voice sounded through the device, _“We’re alright down here, Commander. The med-bay is damaged, but our supplies are intact.”_

“Good. Med teams to every deck. I’m going to take a look outside.”

Another voice came through. _“Commander!”_

It was James.

“Vega? What’s your status?”

_“Damned near fell off the sickbed, Commander. I’m alright. Need someone to help y-”_

Dr. Michel interjected, _“You’re to stay in this bed even if I have to bind you hand and foot to it, Lieutenant. You’re lucky for someone who’s had a Mako dropped on them.”_

Defeated, James’s voice murmured, _“Just my luck that I had to land in the kinkiest sickbay in the Alliance. Liara hasn’t come to yet, but she’s breathing.”_

“Understood. James, keep an eye on her. That’s an order.”

 _“Yes, ma’am.”_ She couldn’t see it, but he almost certainly was giving a friendly salute.

Ashley turned back to the airlock, asking, “EDI, what can we tell about the planet outside?”

Her mobile platform brought up the telemetry. “From what little time we had before impact-”

Joker interjected. “Landing.”

EDI continued unfazed – wait, did she just _roll_ her eyes? – explaining, “our emergency landing, I was able to discern that we are currently on a planet about 0.9 times the size of Earth, within this system’s inhabitable zone. Their star is a G-type dwarf not dissimilar to our own Sun, and Earth-like life seems to have developed on this planet, based on our sensors picking up on deciduous woodland and grassland, surrounded by mangroves and seas.”

Ashley looked at the screen. The footage was as clear as you’d expect from a crashing starship, but there it was – azure skies and wine-dark oceans, and lush green forests. Just like Earth, or Eden Prime, or even Virmire before they’d vaporised Saren’s installation.

She turned back to EDI. “Could we just…step out, then?”

EDI stared off into space, relaxing her mobile unit’s processing, before snapping back. “Based on our sensor data, I see no reason not to. It is an aesthetically pleasing vista by most organics’ standards, and there appear to be no hostiles in a 10-kilometer radius.”

“Good enough for me,” Joker said, starting up the airlock release.

After a brief judder, the door slid to the size, and bright sunlight filtered in, revealing the vastness of the Arlathan Forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone trying to keep track of where's where, here's a great resource I've been relying on to keep things straight: https://bendingwind.bitbucket.io/
> 
> The Normandy SR-2 is currently on the eastern edge of the Arlathan forest, pretty much right smack on the Antiva-Tevinter border.


	6. Lavellan and Cullen

“Commander.”

Blinking to get the focus in her eyes back, Rivka looked up from her desk. “Cullen.”

He stood in the doorway, no longer wearing the furred coat of his time commanding the Inquisition’s forces, but a simple set of plate armour with the Chantry’s emblem pressed into it. “Forgive my intrusion. Was your sleep last night disrupted?”

“Yes, but I’ll be fine. Also, since when do _you_ call me, ‘Commander’, Cullen?”

“It’s…refreshing…to have someone _else_ hear it. I always preferred ‘Captain’, myself. Quite glad to get back to that,” Cullen said, smirking. “Would you prefer ‘Cometesse’?”

“Maker spare me, at least Paladin-Commander’s an actual _job_. All ‘Cometesse’ has ever gotten me is Varric’s forwarded mail from the Merchant’s Guild,” Rivka groaned. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing distressing, Comma-”

“Cut that out, Cullen. Seeing as we’ve always been on a first-name basis, I think you can handle ‘Rivka’ well enough.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he retorted, mock-saluting her.

Rivka narrowed her eyes, making small grasping motions with her hand and simulating it wrapped halfway around his neck. With that damned smirk still on his face, Cullen continued, “Speaking of mail, I thought it best to deliver this directly to you.”

He produced a letter made of rich paper, sealed with an Antivan design Rivka knew all too well. There was no mockery in his smile, only simple joy.

“Thank you, Cullen. This is just what I needed.”

As she took it from him, he asked, “The other thing was…the night guard saw you pacing about the battlements early this morning. Is there something on your mind?”

She cocked her eyebrow. “So, you knew _perfectly well_ I hadn’t had an good night’s sleep before you got here?”

“Well, yes. I thought it best to be discreet…”

“Of course. Now it’s a secret between you, me, and our friend the guard Jeremiah.”

Cullen’s countenance took on a dash of asperity. “Command- _Rivka_.”

“Oh, relax, Cullen. _Of course_ he’d tell you. It was his duty. It’s not like I was skulking about, having a secret tryst right on the rooftops of the Grand Cathedral. Maker knows that Leliana would have my guts for lute-strings if I’d tried _that_. It was a dream about Solas.”

Now he looked concerned.

“It was about the last things he said to me, about how he was going to tear down the Veil and finish the job Corypheus started,” Rivka explained, absent-mindedly massaging her stump. “I’ve had that dream far too many times since then.”

Cullen shuffled on one foot in a fashion that would infuriate parade-sergeants the world over, unsure of what to say. She broke the silence. “Did we do the right thing, Cullen?”

He blinked, stunned by the question. “Of course. I’d hardly like to live under the Tevinters of old, and neither would you.”

“Yes, but the Inquisition…Solas used us, Cullen, used _me_ to get his damned orb back. And I knew him the best of us all, or maybe I just thought I did, for that brief time…”

“We had a duty to the world then, and we still do now. We did what was necessary, and Solas was part of that, unpleasant as it was.”

Rivka shook her head. “We should have known. Somewhere, through all the lies and half-truths, his goals were always there. If only I’d picked up on it sooner…”

Cullen leant in, planting his hands on her desk. “Even if you had, it could well have been worse. Imagine if you’d forced a confrontation before we stopped Corypheus, or even the Dragon’s Breath. Who knows if we’d have been able to stop Corypheus without him, or stop the qunari if he’d weakened us first? Maker knows Iron Bull’s betrayal was enough.”

“You’re right, of course. Sorry, Cullen. I suppose I felt that I just couldn’t let go. But that’s what we have to do.”

“It can’t have been easy, least of all for you.”

She rubbed at her temples, looking at Josephine’s note. “Thankfully, we turned out to have truer allies and friends than that. I’ll finish my business, then join you in the courtyard?”

Cullen nodded, saying, “I look forward to it.”

As he left the room, he glanced at the prosthetic arm that Varric had the best of Kirkwall’s engineers rig up for Rivka after Solas’ handiwork. With a turn of a dial around its wrist, a series of gears, bolts and catches would tighten or release its grip. Right now, its veridium fingers were wrapped around the haft of an old Templar shield. Anchor or no anchor, she wasn’t going to let a simple thing like this stop her from going back into the field.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully some of the in-game narrative decisions here are quite obvious through this.
> 
> Rivka broke up with Solas after the waterfall scene and romanced Josephine after that. As you can see, her romance deviates somewhat slightly from the main game, so Otranto's question about Josephine having any sisters is finally answered.
> 
> Jeremiah is none other than Jim the guard, still working for the Inquisition after all this time.


	7. Ashley and James

She passed the plaque to Liara, who took two short steps to the memorial wall, and planted it there wordlessly as Ashley and the rest looked on. Liara had recovered rapidly, or at least physically so. Her gaze was blank, and she had responded to Ashley and Dr. Michel mostly with dull monosyllables when they asked her to attend to the brief service.

Her requisite moment of silence done, she mumbled, “I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me” and shuffled off there.

Ashley bit her lip as she watched Liara skulk off through the doorway and drag the door shut with an offhanded biotic pull, the electronics in it having been disabled due to the crash. James’ gaze caught the edge of her attention, and he gave her an inquisitive glance, cocking his head in the direction of Liara’s room. Ashley shook her head. It was clear that, having had time to process it all, Liara was already mourning Shepard; what little she’d spoken when she agreed to do this said it all.

God knows she needed the time. It’d seemed like no sooner had the Virmire facility gone up in a nuclear blast, taking Kaidan from her, that Ashley was storming the old Normandy with Shepard, and then they were on Ilos, in a mad chase to stop Saren from bringing the Reapers down on everyone’s heads. It was only once all that adrenaline had washed off, and she’d stopped to think about it all, that she truly realised how much she’d lost that day.

And then, of course, the Collectors had killed Shepard a few months later. She still remembered him barking orders to stay behind with the escape pods as he went to retrieve Joker. Her last memory of his face had been an impassive N7 helmet, and nothing else. Coming to terms with it all had taken far longer than she’d expected. So long that seeing Shepard on Horizon, with that Cerberus operative, Miranda, on one side of him and Garrus on the other, had torn her heart out of her chest again.

It’d taken longer than she’d cared to admit to forgive him; when it came time for Hammer Group to rush the conduit on Earth, she made a point to memorise every feature, every last bit of his countenance before he turned away, ready to make the assault with James and Liara. She’d asked him – begged him, even – to have his six one last time, fully thinking that this would be one they wouldn’t make it out of, not this time.

He’d refused, telling her the _Normandy_ would need her more than ever now.

On some level, the insidious part of her mind, that dark corner from which all her doubt and loathing crawled out to bring her down, had whispered to her that of all the old crew, she was the only one who’d forsaken him when he took on the Collectors, and this was her punishment. This not being enough, her guilt had also whispered that it wasn’t even punishment for her, it’d been his attempt at redemption for abandoning Kaidan. She honestly didn’t know which was worse.

Thinking herself alone, she sighed, saying, “Wish you were with us now, skipper. We really need you down here.”

Then, breaking into her thoughts, she heard another voice. “Yeah, me too.”

She wheeled around on her heel. “Vega!”

Before she could say anything, James had continued, “But he – the Commander – he knew you could get us through this. I had a chance to talk with him a few times. I think one way or the other, he felt he was going to be retiring after flipping the switch on that thing.”

“You think?”

“He was…tired. Of it all. Liara felt it as well. I think that’s why she tagged along with him, to try and make sure he came out of it alive.”

Ashley studied James’s expression. “And you?”

James blinked. “Me? I just follow Loco’s orders, ma’am. He says charge the beam, I do so.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

Sighing, he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure you heard what happened to Fehl Prime before all this. I like living as much as the next guy, but with all the chips down as they were in London, I must’ve thought maybe if I’d gone out like a hero they’d – she’d – forgive me.”

She? Ashley didn’t press the issue. “But you made it out.”

“And so did you, Lola.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Now you’ve started with the nicknames for me, too?”

“Hell if I know how long we’re going to be stuck on this tropical paradise, ma’am, or if they’re even looking for us. Figure we’ve got time to start getting cute around here.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re an inveterate charmer, Vega?”

“Not since I chatted to Privates West Side and East Side at the Citadel party.”

Her eyes narrowed, until the lewd realisation dawned. She swatted him in the gut, slapping him with the back of her hand just enough to sting a little. “Bet _that_ kept you warm at night on the way to Thessia, pretty boy. You’re on crate duty once Michel clears your physical.” 

Massaging his wounded pride, James gave her a nod. He glanced again in the direction of Liara’s quarters. “How about…”

Ashley shook her head again. “Leave her be. She needs time.”

“Understood, ma’am.” James saluted her, and left for his quarters.

Looking at Shepard’s plaque again, she took her breath. She hadn’t wanted to say it out in public, but the facts were that minus shifting things around with her biotics, there really wasn’t much for Liara to do around here anyway. Tali was labouring around the clock to get the engines working again, Garrus with the long-distance comms, with EDI assisting both of them repairing…herself. The Prothean she didn’t order around, but he was also repairing the ship, being singularly uninterested in setting up the survival habitat outside.

Minus any form of long-range communications, all those screens in Liara’s room might as well have been good for playing _Vaenia_ or whatever that drama those asari watched was. The war had probably wrought hell on the Shadow Broker’s network, anyway. Making a quick prayer for her, Ashley headed up the stairs to the briefing room. Time to get to work.


	8. Lavellan and Cullen

“Again!”

Rivka focused her energy into a spell, flame surrounding her staff, and aimed it steady at Cullen’s shield. Just then, he too reached out, and it was as though a vast bubble of _emptiness_ started emanating. The flame died out, and now a sword was swinging her way. Drawing on the strength of underused muscles, she raised the shield to block it.

The angle was off, and she felt the blow ripple through her veridium arm, straight on into her elbow, and now her shoulder, which crumpled to the sword strike. Figuring it’d hurt less if she rolled with it, Rivka let her legs fall back and flipped them back up, landing in a kneeling position. Catching her breath, she watched Cullen lower his sword into a guard, a look of concern on his face.

“I’m fine,” she spat.

 “Be that as it may, it’s about time we took a break anyway,” Cullen said, making a move to sheathe his sword.

She stared straight up into his eyes, and they fought a brief, invisible, war. She’d said again and again that as the new (incredibly ironically named) Divine’s Right Hand, the cohort of paladins she now led as the Inquisition’s new life would’ve lost all of its legitimacy if its commander couldn’t even hold up a shield.

Ever since Varric had presented her the prosthetic – Sera’s offer of a crossbow attachment had been rejected due to the potentially disastrous consequences of a misfire – Rivka had been training tirelessly with Cullen and Harding to make sure she could wield it. But it hadn’t been easy, and her tumble had been far from the first. All throughout, Cullen looked like his favourite mabari had fallen down a hill chasing a stick. If there was one thing above anything else she _didn’t_ need right now, it was his condescension.

Rivka wanted to push herself harder, to make sure she could fight single-handed as soon as possible, but Cullen had seen the deep shadows around her eyes, twinges in her stride, her listlessness as she went through the motions of being the Inquisitor again in all but name. After the Dragon’s Breath, word of Fen’Harel – Solas – had rapidly dried up, and most of what they were doing was mopping up Venatori insurgents in Tevinter. Sera had been kept busy in Vyrantium flushing them out, and Sutherland and his merry band were working with Hawke and his friend Fenris in tracking them down in the Silent Plains.

That had left Rivka little to do but handle the paperwork of the Paladin Guard, and throw herself again and again into sparring, exhausting herself until she slept listlessly, and repeating the whole process day after day. She was looking little fitter for it, growing more and more gaunt till Cullen had to order Harding to make sure she finished her meals.

 

Their contest of wills ended, Rivka groaning as she released the shield from her grip, slowly getting back up on her feet. Cullen extended his hand, and she waved the prosthetic at it. He leaned forward and took her by the elbow, leading her to the nearby benches.

Catching his breath, he asked, “What did Josie have to say?” 

She turned to him with a smile. “She’s doing well, more of the usual Antivan business. Yvette’s invited her to her brother-in-law’s estates in Seleny.”

“Otranto, was it? I seem to recall him being somewhat of a fop. How are things with them?”

Rivka laughed, an increasingly rare occurrence, saying, “Oh, you’re absolutely correct. Made of ruffles and tassels, he is. But he’s utterly devoted to Josie’s sister; he has all of her paintings in the grandest gallery in the castle, apparently.”

“A _castle_? What does a gaggle like his need with one?”

“An inheritance, apparently from the times of the previous Blight. The Otrantos of old were a little more martial than our friend Adorno, but some of that got lost down the ages.

Cullen let himself have a little smile at the thought of the dandy looking utterly lost in plate armour. “And has Josephine accepted?”

“I think so. That’s one family reunion I’d like to see.”

Cullen casually said, “Depending on when, it wouldn’t be the most unreasonable thing for you to take a fast clipper from here. You’d make Antiva City in-”

“No.” Rivka stopped him. “I’m needed here.”

“It’s been the most quiet since, well, since…”

She shook her head. “We need to be ready.”

 

_For what?_ Cullen asked himself. This was futile. Rivka was lost in thought again.

 

Finally, she said, “Speaking of that, there _was_ something I meant to ask you after you handed Josephine’s letter to me.”

“Oh?”

“I was watching stars falling from the sky that night." 

“Jim said he was too. Quite the sight, I’m told. Of course, he should’ve been watching the gates, but I can hardly blame him, really.”

She asked, “You didn’t see anything?”

“No. But…”

Rivka leaned in. “But?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Clearly it wasn’t.”

Cullen turned to glance at her. “Very well. I _was_ shaken awake early in the morning, but nothing else. It was as though someone was rolling a convoy of goods through the courtyard, but obviously it wasn’t. Or if it was, Jim was asleep on the job.”

Something in her eyes sparked in life. “That’s what I felt too! Just as one passed closer than all the rest.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Maker knows the last thing we need right now is _more_ rocks falling from the sky. Hopefully it lands somewhere safe, preferably far away." 

“Oh, those things burn up long before they reach the ground. You just have to watch the trails,” Rivka said absent-mindedly, shaking her feet at the ankles as she balanced on the edge of the bench.

 

A third voice cut in. “Forgive me. I hope I’m not interrupting?”

 

Rivka and Cullen turned to meet their guest.

“Cassandra!”

“Of course not. Please, join us,” Cullen said, standing on occasion.

The Lady Seeker smiled as she gestured for him to take his seat again. She was lightly dressed – by her standards, that meant she was only wearing a brigandine over her hauberk. Her sallow cheeks spoke to many nights on the road, but she appeared as good-humoured as could be.

“I trust all is well?” she asked.

“As exciting as Val Royeaux gets,” Rivka said, shrugging.

Cassandra gave a knowing nod. “Orlesians and their games. I take it that things have been positively dull, then?”

Rivka gestured to the empty courtyard, as though that said it all. “And the Seekers?”

“Many Templars have come to us in the hopes of serving a better cause. Kerowen is doing well. They respect him, despite his being a mage. The Silver Order of the Wardens have been kind enough to let us occupy Andoral’s Reach while we scout the Tirashan.”

“I take it you have news then?”

She nodded. “Yes. It is…concerning.”

Rivka had felt her pulse slowly quicken ever since Cassandra had walked in, anticipating developments on her end. Now it was almost racing. “What is it?”

“Leliana’s suspicions were correct. Dalish activity is increasing in that vast woodland, enough for the Seeker scouts to start spotting them in their rounds now. Knowing them, it would be foolish not to assume that they, too, know we seek them there.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean much.”

“It does when you take into account that from our reports, we have observed that none of them – to a man – have your elvish ‘blood-writing’ marked on their skin.”

Rivka’s eyes widened. “No vallaslin? Any of them?”

“Yes. Erased like yours, with nary a single scar left. If they were fleeing city elves, we would have been able to track their movements on the roads leading out of Orlais. There is only one conclusion, I fear."

 

She gazed down, before looking Cassandra square in the eye. “Solas is gathering his army.”


	9. Ashley

Ashley couldn’t believe her eyes.

She’d seen some weird shit ever since running into Shepard on Eden Prime. A list of it all would probably run as long as her arm, but she reckoned it was safe to say that even putting the Reapers aside, her experiences would run high above the galactic mean in terms of sheer amount of strangeness. But this was new.

There were, in addition to a pirate right out of _Cutthroat Island III: Mystery of the Sargasso_ , two honest-to-god elves standing on the shore in front of them. The pirate lady and the elves seemed to be equally dumbfounded, sizing her and her squadmates up and down like they’d never seen Alliance soldiers or EDI before. Well, the last one was more understandable, she guessed.

Eventually, she broke the silence. “You’re…elves,” Ashley stammered, already rolling her eyes at just how stupid that sounded.

The two elves looked at each other, then at what Ashley presumed was their leader, then at Ashley. Finally, the one on her right, the tanned one with the blond hair, spoke up.

“Well, yes. I should imagine so. You seem very surprised by this fact.”

Now it was the brunette on her left who was talking. “Well, maybe she comes from a place where there are no elves. It’s possible, but that means she can’t be from anywhere near here. After all, Tevinter’s on our right and Antiva’s on our left…or was it the other way around? Oh, I can never remember.”

And now it was the pirate captain who weighed in, even as she idly fingered the knives on her belt. “Sea’s to our north, kitten, Tevinter _is_ on our right, so let’s not go there afterwards. Never seen an elf in your life…you’re not from the Anderfels, are you? I knew I should’ve asked Sparks more about what things were like there when I had the chance…”

Ashley could feel her brow furrowing, even as the first tinglings of a headache were coming on. “I can assure you, wherever the Anderfels are, we’re _not_ from there.”

“Hmph. Shame,” the pirate captain sighed, “It’d have explained a lot,”

“Like _what_ precisely?!” Ashley exclaimed, adjusting her grip on her rifle.

The pirate said, “Well, like your unnaturally curvy golem over there,” gesturing at EDI. 

EDI spoke up, holding her pistol steady, “I am not a golem.”

“Not like one _I’ve_ ever seen. If there’s more of you where you come from, take us there." 

The tanned blond interjected, “Isabela, I know all too well your tastes run the full gamut, but snuggling up to a pile of rocks is a journey I’m _not_ willing to take with you. Nor, I am willing to wager, _her_ either.”

The woman, Isabela, turned to him, saying, “Zevran, rub the sea-spray out of your eyes. You honestly think _that’s_ a slab of stone?!”

EDI spoke once again, saying, “I am not a slab of stone.”

The headache was getting worse. Ashley pointed at the woman, saying, “All right, you’re Isabela, he’s Zevran,” she said, gesturing at the apparently Latino elf, “and I’m going to bet your real name isn’t Kitten.”

“I’m Merrill!”, said Merrill.

“Right. That’s James,” Ashley said as she pointed over her shoulder, then gestured at EDI, saying “That’s EDI, she’s not made of stone nor is she a golem, she’s an AI in an unnaturally curvy and _really strong_ mobile platform. Now that we all know each other, _do you mind telling us where we are_?”

As though by magic, two daggers had appeared in Isabela’s hands. Zevran had moved the bow in front of him, and now Merrill was brandishing a staff with a tiny flame on top.

“Why should we answer your questions, if you won’t even tell us where you’re from?

“Because we asked first, and we’ve got the guns.”

Six figures stood on the beach, stood in a deadlock. Ashley’s rifle was raised, as was James’s machine-pistol, and EDI’s Carnifex. She felt Isabela’s eyes slowly shift between her and her squadmates, making the necessary mental calculations and playing out the fight before them if none of them stood down. She knew, because she was doing the exact same thing. Unless that elf could launch an Inferno from that thing, they’d all be down in seconds.

Isabela, reaching the same conclusion, laughed, sheathing her knives and waving at Merrill and Zevran to stand down. “You’re not Venatori or qunari or Crows, and really that’s good enough for us. We’ve been stranded for a day and a half now, and I’d be all too happy to get somewhere with decent beds.”

“Who _are_ you all though? And how’d you get stranded?” 

With a theatrical bow, the pirate captain introduced herself. “Captain Isabela of the _Auric Hind_ , formerly of the Felicisima Armada, currently under orders of the House of Montilyet’s merchant fleet in support of Her Perfection Divine Victoria at your service.” 

Zevran said, “It _is_ rather strange when you phrase it that way, given that I’m hardly a model Chantry boy, Merrill’s in service to the elvhen gods who haven’t done anything for me or any of us recently, and Maker knows what _you_ believe in, Isabela.”

She turned to him. “Getting paid, Zevran. That’s the only higher power I’ve ever seen physical evidence for. Merrill’s our first mate, and Zevran is our resident combat specialist.”

“Assassin,” Zevran clarified.

Ashley waved her hands, saying, “All right, back up a few steps here. So, Isabela, you _were_ a captain of a merchant ship.”

“ _Armed_ escort,” Zevran clarified.

“Thank you,” Ashley said, continuing, “up until two days ago, when I presume you got…shipwrecked?”

“Sunk. By a qunari dreadnaught, just five miles in that direction. We’re lucky to have made it out alive. The rest of crew’s holed up in a cave further down the shore, and we’ve been figuring out if we’re on the Tevinter or Antivan side of the border since.”

“Huh. Well, that’s a funny coincidence. Our ship’s also stranded.”

One of Isabela’s eyebrows arched. “Oh? Where is it?” 

Ashley pointed behind her with her thumb. “Not far from here. It’s a few miles inland, right in the middle of that forest.”

The only response was stunned silence.

Then, not two seconds later, the captain and the two elves were practically doubled up as they chortled amongst themselves, and it was clear that Isabela was really doing her best not to collapse to the floor in sheer hysterical laughter.

“I don’t –” Ashley started, but before she could say anything else, the second wave of laughter had already caught up with the first.

Tears almost streaming out of his eyes, Zevran said, “I take back everything I said the day before, Isabela. I’ve finally found the _worst_ captain in all of Thedas!”

Isabela caught her breath, before turning around to face her mutinous elf. “We – _oh Maker_ – we were holed below the waterline, and I at least managed to sink our ship in _water_!”

James was giving Ashley a _look_. Even EDI, with her nigh-infinite processing power, was starting to look impatient. Ashley shook her head. Her headache was definitely getting worse.

“If you lot are done –”

Another peal of laughter later, they were. 

“Right. Yes, we crashed…”

It was EDI who interrupted her. “Made an emergency landing…” 

Ashley stared daggers at her mobile platform. “ _Made an emergency **crash** -landing_ in the middle of that forest, and between the two I think we’d have a much harder time taking off from over _there_ ” – she pointed at the sea – “than back over there. Does that answer your questions, you chucklefu- _heads_?”

Although their faces were still strained from laughter, it was Merrill who regained her composure first.

“Wait, did you say _take off_? Do you mean that your ship is a _flying ship_?” 

Before the other two could seize up with their inane guffawing at their plight again, Ashley said, “Well, yes. You seem very surprised by this fact.”

Isabela now was dead serious. “You _really_ aren’t from around here, are you?”


	10. Dorian

Things could be going well for Dorian Pavus right now, to be honest. 

 

For that matter, it was difficult to think how things could currently be going worse _than_ bleeding out on the Imperial Highway.

Even shifting a single muscle was agony, but he had to know. Slowly turning his head, he took in the scene of utter carnage which had occurred while he was taking a power nap courtesy of what must have been a gaatlok blast by the roadside. Bodies that weren’t slashed were riddled with arrows, and those which hadn’t suffered either were probably blown to bits by magic.

Not far from him, the corpse of Radonis Macrinus, up until maybe an hour ago Archon of the Tevinter Imperium, appeared to have suffered from all three. Dorian winced, and shut his eyes, trying to shift the carriage which had probably saved him from the same fate, but now was just pinning him down. A sticky wetness on his right flank, and searing pain, _probably_ was a sign that there was more than a little bit of its woodwork stuck in him.

 

Damned qunari and their blackpowder.

 

They’d managed to overrun Minrathous with a good deal of the stuff: all the chains and gates and galleys amounted to nothing when fireships had blown up half the harbour. It had been a slaughter after that, especially since forced had been reduced in alleviating the Eyes of Nocen. Dorian had begged Radonis not to do so and focus his efforts on the force from Alam in the west, but the archon’s hands had been tied, or so he said.

Despite the Inquisition’s best efforts, the Venatori hadn’t been wiped out with the death of Corypheus – although their actual stronghold was being pinned down to somewhere on the other side of the Silent Plains, it was a public secret that Vyrantium was stuffed to the brim with them. For all of Sera’s and the Red Jennies’ efforts, they weren’t going away until they were flushed out of their hiding-holes.

The outcome of that damned Exalted Council didn’t help. Already dissenting voices murmured against Radonis’ embracing the Inquisition with open arms; although they were no great admirers of Corpyheus, the tacit acknowledgement of the Chantry’s authority had essentially lit a fire under Imperial Divine Urian Nihalias’s bum, which had only grown worse when Vivienne had been elected as Her Holiness Victoria and grown into an inferno when the Inquisition became folded into her Palatinate Guard.

Dorian had found his voice in the Magisterium increasingly silenced as those sanctimonious, paranoid, fools, feared the loss of the Imperium’s sovereignty. Idiots. The Venatori must have taken advantage of the dissent to gain ground in Minrathous and Qarinus, because no sooner had the damned qunari beaten down the city gates did word of Calpernia and her cabal of conspirators calling themselves the Censorate emerge. Worst of all, it seemed like the Ben-Hassarath had banked on this. Why give them that infernal device otherwise?

 

Damned qunari and their blackpowder.

 

He cursed himself under his breath, after sparing an oath for them again. Of course, they must’ve known the Archon would be fleeing along this road, and _of course_ they knew that the Archon’s personal guard would be scanning the path for sign of magical ambush. After all, that’s how things were done in Tevinter, weren’t they? Trust them to cheat.

Well, as ways for a career of rebellion against parental authority for the vast majority of his adult life, three or so years of Chantry-granted legitimacy and a few months of political manoeuvring to end, this wasn’t going to put him in the esteemed ranks of the Pavuses if he couldn’t get this damned cart off him. Father Halward, bless him in the arms of the Maker, was about to find a new way to be disappointed in his dear old son.

With a shove that almost definitely pulled something, it rolled off him, and Dorian lay there in a pool of his own blood, catching his breath. With his arms free, he patted the injured side and winced as the thick splinters shoved against things that normally didn’t have anything touching them from the outside. Remembering the apothecary’s old wisdom not to pull anything out that was holding in his insides, he crawled to his feet, keeping pressure on what used to be part of a window frame. 

The sun was setting. He shuffled and trudged that way. Weisshaupt was somewhere in that direction, and out of all those stuffy Gray Wardens, Old Grumpy and Unwashed wouldn’t hold back his hospitality. Hopefully there was a healer or, at the very least, a warm bed somewhere on the way too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder about this resource in case the place-names aren't too familiar: https://bendingwind.bitbucket.io/


	11. Ashley and Isabela

“Well, slap my tits and call me Andraste, and I’ll call you the Maker back,” Isabela stammered as she gazed upon the _Normandy_ SR-2.

Merrill furrowed her brow. “You only say all these terrible things because Aveline or Sebastian aren’t around.”

“Not true, kitten. If they were, I’d say it twice as loud for everyone to hear.”

Zevran was still dazed. “Well, Merrill, it appears that I owe you five coppers. A flying ship. Albeit…grounded.”

 

In front of them, Ashley had stopped and turned to them. “Well, welcome to our merry little band. I’ve already messaged ahead to save some you lot some rations, but it’d be much more helpful if you could direct us to any settlements you know of. As delicious as MREs are, we’re going to need more than what we packed if we’re going to be stranded for long.”

 

The Thedosians looked a little unsure.

 

“You eat _emeries_?” Isabela asked, sceptically.

Merrill leaned to whisper in Zevran’s ear. “Maybe they _are_ golems.”

EDI’s mobile unit did not fail to pick up on their comments, and with a tone affecting annoyance, she repeated, “I am _not_ a golem. And I do not require organic sustenance. And further to your enquiry, Captain Isabela, ‘MRE’ is an abbreviation for Mobile-Ready-to-Eat, the official term for Alliance rations. Their phonetic similarity to ‘emery’ is a coincidence.”

Ashley exhaled. “Thank you, EDI.”

Despite the long-range communications still being busted, EDI’s network had been strong enough to permit her control over her mobile unit, and with it, instantaneous communication between that and the shipboard computer. Thus, in addition to Ashley’s missive, the crew had been briefed on their guests and their curious understanding of world affairs, which seemed to stop short of the end of the Middle Ages.

 

What she _really_ should have done, in retrospect, was inform Isabela’s crew of the reverse, because no sooner had Garrus and Tali emerged from the ship did half of them raise their weapons, screaming _“Demons!” “Abominations!” “Maker’s Balls!” “Andraste preserve us!”_ and the like until, of all people in their group, _Merrill_ had shouted the lot down, apparently speaking from personal experience that the weird-looking people with three fingers, although looking like nobody they personally knew or had heard of, _definitely_ weren’t demons or spirits, or she’d have known.

Spinning her dagger around her index and middle fingers, Isabela said, “Then that begs the question as to what exactly they are.”

Garrus spoke first. “I’m a turian.”

He was followed by Tali. “I’m a quarian.”

 

They may as well have been speaking in their untranslated languages as the crew of the _Auric Hind_ stood stupefied.

 

Ashley explained, “All right, you know how you’ve got elves and humans in your crew?”

Isabela managed a, “Yes?”

“Likewise, we’ve got different species serving on our ship.”

“But…they look so different from you, even more than the qunari do from us or dwarves. Are you sure they don’t come from the Fade?”

 

_Dwarves, too?! What’s next, gnomes and orcs? And there’s that “qunari” word again…_

 

“I assure you, they don’t come from ‘the Fade’, they just come from, well, a different star.”

Merrill’s eyes look like they were going to pop out any second. “Your ship flies between _stars_?!?”

Ashley gave a grim smile. “Well, not right now it doesn’t. Come, I think we’re due for dinner right now.”

 

The _Auric Hind_ crew relaxed, and started heading towards the little encampment which the _Normandy_ crew had started setting up, and began to receive the ration packs which were the (in every sense but literal) the bread and butter of the Alliance Navy. Garrus and Tali, of course, had their own dextro rations, and Tali in particular was making detailed scans of the flora and fauna for her, and Garrus’ sake. Ashley smiled as she looked at them taking care of each other. It’d taken a while, but they were good for each other.

 

Then, of course, Javik stepped out and ruined it all.

 

“Commander, you have finally returned. I…” 

He stopped in his tracks, staring at the humans and elves milling about the ship, began sentences which trailed off before they’d even started – multiple times – all the while as the crew of the _Auric Hind_ stared warily back at him, also too stunned to act.

With a supreme effort, the Prothean regained his composure, saying, “I must speak with you, Commander Williams. _Immediately_.” Then he ducked back into the ship.

 

Isabela, still staring wildly at the doorway, asked, “Alright, now who’s that?”

“Javik, our resident Prothean,” Ashley said nonchalantly, heading up the cargo ramp.

“You can’t tell me _he_ isn’t a revenant of some kind.”

Ashley looked into the ship. “I don’t know about any other Protheans, but him? I suppose in his own way, he is.”


	12. James and Isabela

James was settling in next to Privates Campbell and Westmoreland, who were cracking open their rations after warming them up over the makeshift stove they’d set up in the clearing.

While there was something of a guard roster, it wasn’t exactly among the most critical of priorities given that the crash-landing had thankfully spared the kinetic barriers of the ship itself, and the shield generators were working well enough to keep out most unwanted attention. That, combined with the autoturrets and a steady supply of solar energy, meant that their perimeter was reasonably secure, even into the night.

Being tactical didn’t mean much when there was a 700-foot stark white spaceship for everyone and their mother to see through the forest anyway, so an exposed flame, a little boiling water and some steam really wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things.

“Donna,” James said, greeting them, “Penny.”

Donna Campbell looked over to James. “Vega. See you’ve made some new friends.”

Her fellow security officer, Pennsylvania ‘Penny’ Westmoreland, glanced over to where Isabela’s crew were being handed their food packets, some of them flipping them over in their hands, apparently not quite getting the whole idea.

Penny in particular was sizing their captain up with an interested eye. “So, James, how long till you break her heart?”

It was suddenly getting a bit hot under his armour, even stripped down as it was. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, _chicas_.”

Donna had a pack of what purported to be linguine in her hand and was waving it in James’ face. “Sure you don’t, big boy. Copeland claims you had two notches under the N7 tattoo after we got back from Thessia. Wonder what that means?”

He grudgingly took it and dipped in the still-boiling water, tapping his foot impatiently. “You both know as well I do that we weren’t exactly suffering from an _excess_ of shore leave after Thessia, ladies. And, also, all Copeland's ever seen of me is my face and arms, and vice versa. Swear on Our Lady’s honour.”

“Funny way of ordering your refutations, Lieutenant,” Penny said, digging into her stew.

James rubbed his forehead and fished the lukewarm packet out of the water. “If two you aren’t going to play nice I’m having lunch somewhere over the other side of our camp.”

Donna raised her hands, “Oh, don’t let _us_ stop you from extending the open hand of Alliance and reaching out to our Ren Faire friends.”

 

He swore they still were giggling as he went over to where those three on the beach were. They were still regarding the MREs as though they’d fallen out of the sky which, technically speaking, was as true as a statement could get. Merrill was about to open hers from the bottom when he reached out and flipped it over just in time to prevent a bean stew from staining her trousers.

 

“If you’d like, you could warm yours up like they’re doing over there,” he said, letting go of the packet and gesturing over to Penny and Donna.

“We’ll manage,” Isabela said, “but thank you. I must say, your food packaging…leaves something to be desired.”

James grunted. “Trust me, we don’t bring these along for their looks.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, soldier boy,” the blond elf – Zevran – teased, as he carefully pressed a lump of pasta out from a corner he had cut.

“Ha! Me, they bring along because I can shoot things well, and if I can’t, I can beat them into the ground. Fact I look pretty is just a bonus,” he retorted, “Mind the edge on those things, Zevran. They’ll cut you pointy ear to ear.”

 

Something seemed to wash through Zevran – _annoyance?_ – as he blinked, mouth halfway full of food and packet. Hopefully the ear thing hadn’t been a step too far. But, just as soon as it’d been there, it’d gone away. James breathed a small sigh of relief. Hate to cause a cross-species incident on Day One of first contact. _At least these guys had less guns than the turians_ …then again, best not to use that line on Ashley. Bit of a sore spot with her family.

 

After giving the food a few thoughtful chews, keeping a clear berth of the sharp edges, Zevran commented, “At least one thing is true.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“We need to find a village and a tavern. Soon.”

James chuckled as he fished out a chunk of rehydrated meat and studied it on the end of his fork like a sample on a slide. “Yeah, it’ll keep you alive, but after a while you’ll start wondering why.”

Zevran shook his head as he forced it down, saying, “After weeks of dried meat and stale bread, and now… _this,_ save it to say I would even contemplate the Wednesday Special at even the most dubious of establishments around here.”

Isabela cut in, figuratively, saying, “Speaking of _around here_ , my lovely paramour, given that we’re right in the middle of the Arlathan Forest, I don’t suppose you’d know the fastest way back out to Antiva?”

“East, I should imagine. That said, I recall signing up on your voyage for the explicit reason of wishing to _avoid_ my homeland, with all of its hospitality.”

“ _Wonderful_.” She rolled her eyes. “Kitten?”

“Well,” Merrill started, “you know as well as I do, Isabela, I’ve never been up in this part of the world, not on foot anyway. But I _have_ seen visions of Arlathan whilst I was in the Fade…”

Struggling to keep it together, Isabela drawled, “Oh, just forget I asked. Come to think of it, the White Spire can’t be far from here. Hm. Funny how I remember it only because Josephine mentioned that the Inquisition _did_ hole some of its dusty old books in the one in Val Royeaux…”

James asked, “Josephine. She…your boss?”

“Correct in one, solider,” Isabela said, “Head of the House of Montilyet and directrix of its holdings in Antiva City, formerly ambassador to the Inquisition, but now a self-supporting businesswoman who happens to charter the odd caravel to do… _reconnaissance_ along the coast of the Venefication Sea.”

“And I take it the Inquisition is – was – a big deal?”

 _Now_ the three of them looked even more bug-eyed than before. It’d taken all of Merrill’s restraint not to start spitting corn in front of her. With a supreme measure of self-control, Isabela finished her mouthful.

“Now…what was your name again?”

“James.”

“James, the other two, that was to say Captain Man-Hands’ cousin and your curvy golem-”

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw EDI’s mobile unit staring daggers over at them. He didn’t know who ‘Captain Man-Hands’ was, but that _didn’t_ sound like a complimentary comparison for Ashley in the least.

“Those I could believe were from the Anderfels, or maybe the other end, all the way in the Korcari Wilds, hell, maybe they came from somewhere far off to the west. But you? You look as Antivan as Zevran here!”

Zevran contributed, “Well, I don’t know, Isabela. With shoulders as wide as his maybe he’s part qunari.”

Winking, Isabela said, “Oh, that just goes to show you don’t know enough Antivan sailors.”

“I think I’ve seen enough for a lifetime,” he grumbled.

James shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, born and raised in Los Angeles, California.”

 

Isabela crossed and re-crossed her legs, deep in thought. Her meal lay half-finished, slowly dribbling out of the hole she’d cut in it off the bench.

He ventured, “Never heard of either, too?”

“You might as well have said you came from the moons,” she said, gesturing up at the slowly-emerging night sky.

Thinking aloud, James muttered, “Better not say I came from even further than that…”

 

She’d evidently caught it, and like a glare in her vision, was trying to blink the possibility away. Changing the subject, she asked, “And what does your heroic company do for shelter? Tents, or do you all find some room in your…ship?”

He looked over at the others, who were slowly making their way back in. “It was shelters last night while we tried to get the power working, but I _think_ Adams and the others managed to get the power working, so we’re getting our creature comforts back bit by bit.”

James got up, collecting the ration packs. “I’ll go in and check with the commander if we’ve got room to spare. The cargo hold might not be much, but I’ll bet it’s better than your cave on the beachfront.”

Isabela looked hurt as she drew herself up to him. “We’ve been on the seas for _quite_ a while, James. I’m sure we might…find some space…amongst your beds?”

He turned to face her, catching _a certain glint_ in her eye. “As I said, _Captain_ , I’ll have to check with Commander Williams. Grunts like me don’t make those sorts of decisions.”

She brushed it off, saying, “Well, if it’s cold down in the cargo hold, can I count on her to send _you_ down” – at this point she gently jabbed him in the sternum – “to…warm us up?”

James was now standing stock still, as he caught Merrill rolling her eyes and Zevran taking the scene in with all too much glee. Maybe Donna and Penny had been right. Speaking of which, they too were gaining far too much entertainment at his expense, as they watched from afar.

“You’ll have to ask her, ma’am”, he managed, before breaking free and heading into the ship.

 

Zevran shook his head. “You truly are evil, you know that, Isabela?"

Merrill added, pouting, “Just because he looks like an Antivan sailor!”

Isabela laughed. “What can I say? In a dank cargo hold, I’ll take him over a bolster any day of the week.”

“Well, _we_ could snuggle up with each other, plus or minus Ser James,” Zevran suggested, “You between us, of course. Merrill’s feet are like ice.”

“Well, hopefully his Commander Williams has less of a stick up her arse than Man-Hands, or we’ll be confined to individual bedrolls and stuck to a lights-out in an hour’s time…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if Bethany and Sarah are Westmoreland's and Campbell's canon first names, but I went with slightly different ones, which is just as well otherwise there'd be two characters in this with the same first name.


	13. Ashley and Javik

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some theories on the peopling of Thedas. It isn't the whole story yet though!

While Isabela was busy teasing James, Ashley and Javik were having a decidedly less romantic conversation on the CIC deck of the _Normandy_.

“Commander Williams. I would not have requested your presence unless it was on business of the highest concern.”

“Go on, then.”

Javik’s four eyes narrowed, unable to look Ashley directly in her two at first. “It is best if we depart from this planet. Immediately.”

Ashley blinked. “Why? What have you learned about it?”

He was, so unusually for a man – Prothean, whatever – normally in control of himself, pacing about on the spot. “Our scientists knew of this planet. It contained phenomena beyond our analytical capability. Risk to life and limb is extremely high.”

“There’s something else.” 

He stopped, and turned around. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re not telling me something. I’ve seen a great many things in this galaxy – obviously not nearly as much as you, or maybe even Shepard – but I know well enough that even the oldest human colony doesn’t go about in _wooden sailing ships_ , nor do they _wield swords and bows_. What’s going on?”

Javik’s four eyes all blinked at once. “Oh. I thought that part would be obvious.”

Ashley crossed her arms. “Spell it out to me.”

“I apologise on the behalf of the researchers responsible for this state of affairs. I fear that our scientists have done your people a great injustice.”

She waved her hand in a rolling motion, as though that would speed up his exposition. “Yes…?”

“Evidently, as a means of studying the unique properties of this planet, a population of primitive human beings was brought here by our researchers.”

Ashley’s gaze turned to the doorway, and she looked upon the crew of the _Auric Hind_ as they struggled with the concept of the MREs, and the _Normandy_ itself, which some of them were still trying to wrap their heads around. James appeared to be chatting with their captain and their two elves.

Turning back to Javik, Ashley asked, “You mean…”

“Descendants of your race. In ways, you can consider them your extremely distant cousins, human. I do not expect that this was a family reunion any of us planned for, however.”

She scratched the back of her head. “No, there’s something else. There has to be. There’s just no chance in hell that they could’ve developed English separately. And as far as I know, no subspecies of ancient hominin has _pointed ears_!”

He nodded. “Yes. These are factors I cannot account for. Beyond the known hazards of this planet and its ecosystem, it is these inexplicable elements which concern me the most.”

“Wait, what known hazards?”

Javik looked up at her. “Your non-human crew were regarded as ‘demons’ by the natives of this planet upon their sighting, were they not?”

“Yes, but that’s because they can’t have been anything _they’d_ seen befo-”

“No. They had more cause than that to believe them to be so,” Javik interjected. “Although what you, and they, call ‘demons’ are but a superstition on Earth, they are very real on this planet.”

Ashley’s train of thought came to a crashing halt.

“What?” 

“Although I was not part of the research team investigating this planet, news of its discovery spread quickly throughout our imperium. A world with unique phenomena far beyond our understanding.” Javik was looking out of the _Normandy_ ’s portholes, surveying the vista in front of them. “Some even claimed that another dimension of reality was accessible on it though interaction with neuromagnetic fields. But then, more disturbing reports spread nearly as quickly.”

“What happened?”

“It is unclear. Apparently the only sapient life was native not to the corporeal boundaries of this planet, but primarily existed in this dimension. Until our explorers encountered them. It was claimed that they were being murdered by their own thoughts, made flesh. Their physiology twisted into abominations against nature by their interaction.”

Ashley didn’t know what to think. “My God.”

“The last I heard prior to the assault of the Reapers on my unit was that all travel to this sector was banned upon pain of death. But evidently its potential was too great to be left alone.”

“Hence humans being transplanted here…like lab rats. Animals.”

Javik blinked his four eyes. “Yes. Among the primitive races, your genetic potential was singled out for interest. If we look elsewhere on this continent we might find similarly chosen asari, but it is unlikely; their powers of telepathy would also render them similarly vulnerable. Evidently some number of you were selected, in contravention of this edict.”

“Wait, you’re saying humans were chosen as test subjects because our brains were _too primitive_ to fall prey to…whatever it is out there?”

“It is the most parsimonious extrapolation of what we have witnessed. Perhaps some of us believed that the properties of this planet were the secret to defeating the Reapers.”

“But it doesn’t explain…”

“It does not. And they failed, not only in harnessing the dangers to any productive use, but succeeded all too well in retarding the development of your species. For that I apologise on their behalf.”

Ashley shook her head. “You don’t have to. You couldn’t have known. And given that this must’ve happened thousands of years ago, maybe sailing ships and swords is just on one end of the bell-curve. Rolling the dice again, maybe they could’ve been even more advanced than _us_. I suppose you’d have to seed a dozen other planets to compare how long it takes cavemen to get to the steam engine…your scientists didn’t do _that_ , did you?”

 

Javik’s expression was unreadable.

 

“ _Right_.”

 

He responded, “At least you are less credulous than your Lieutenant Vega. He would have left this conversation pondering alien abductions for the rest of the day, if not longer.” 

“Thanks, I guess,” Ashley said. “Obviously the human populace of this planet has managed to co-exist with this dimension well enough. But you say there’s still a severe risk.”

“That is my recommendation, not merely for the safety of this crew, but to their world. The risks to us I have already outlined. The dangers to this planet and its society may be even greater.”

“What do you mean?”

He considered his words, before asking Ashley, “You are part of a religious movement that believes in a creator-god, do you not?”

“Yes,” Ashley said. “Why?”

“Were the masses of your congregation, in a technological era analogous to this world, informed that their ‘Maker’ was far from omnipotent, what would their reaction be?”

Ashley drew in a sharp breath. “Ah.”

“Already the revelation that they are far from the only sapient beings in this galaxy has undoubtedly caused existential crises among these few natives. Further exposure to the greater population would almost certainly lead to religious schism and social upheaval.”

In her mind’s eye, the tableau was already unfolding – riots, clashes, maybe even crusades called against the _Normandy_ and her crew. Hell, if they’d crashed on medieval Earth, there’d probably have been people thinking they were the Second Coming, and it’d all come crashing down for sure.

Javik spoke. “I, of course, leave this matter to your judgement. Seeing as you have already chosen to feed and house them it would make matters even worse for you to expel them, but I nevertheless strongly advise our rapid departure from this place, Commander.”

“Right. Thanks, Javik,” she managed, as he left.

Once the doors slid shut, Ashley found herself planting her hands on the edge of the nearest console, exhaling harshly in one long draw as she leaned her body weight on it.

 

Why couldn’t things ever just be _simple_?


	14. Ashley, Isabela and James

Night fell, and Ashley’s decision stood. Spare bedrolls and sheets had been laid out in the cargo bay for the _Auric Hind_ ’s crew, numbering Isabela, Merrill, Zevran and about a dozen other people, who were a mixture of humans and elves.

They looked around the ship’s hull with amazement and disbelief, first in grasping the idea that a ship could be constructed entirely with metal, and secondly that _any_ ship, flying or otherwise could ever be large enough to house theirs, several times over to boot.

Nevertheless, before long they’d managed to settle in nicely enough, with James briefing them on the amenities were, complete with demonstration of electric lights, for which he’d resorted to using “enchantment” as an analogy after more befuddled looks, and flushing toilets, which were slightly simpler to explain.

The rest of them had dispersed, heading off to choose their spots and pick their orientations, so that they wouldn’t wind up head-to-foot and vice versa, but the three which Ashley’s squad had encountered on that beach that afternoon had been invited up to the War Room, and now were looking at the 3-D topographical map of the area.

Merrill was waving her hands around in it, trying to understand how it’d been conjured up, until Ashley shot Isabela a look, and the pirate quickly grabbed her wrist.

Ashley began, “I hope the arrangements are to your satisfaction, Captain Isabela?”

She nodded, smiling, “It _is_ a massive step up from a dank grotto. Thanks again, Commander Williams.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Merrill rambled, “The cave had a little bit of character. This _Normandy_ feels so…sterile.”

Cutting in, Zevran gave his opinion. “That cave was leaking from the floor _and_ the ceiling, Merrill.”

“Well, that’s also true.”

“Good to know we’re more comfortable from a wet cave,” remarked James.

“Right.” Ashley sighed. “If you need anything, we’ve got a crewman posted at the door to the elevator at all times. I apologise in advance, but given how new all this is to you, I’d strongly advise that you stay in the cargo bay till morning.”

An undercurrent of – _well, something_ – ran through their guests, and didn’t go unnoticed.

Asking the obvious question, Isabela said, “And _tomorrow morning_?”

“That’s what I invited you all up here to discuss,” Ashley said, as she gestured to the map. “This is a representation of our current environment, as plotted out by our instruments.”

A dot blinked in its centre. “This is our current position. As you can see, we’re just a few miles to the south of the coastline where we ran into you, and most of the surrounding area appears to be forest.”

At this, a vaguely quadrangular shape was shaded in with a dark shade of green, then the wider area with a light green and the sea tinted blue. The _Normandy_ was close to the edge of the dark green and the sea-blue, and the edge of the dark and the light green. The surface of the map raised and lowered, corresponding to the contours of the land.

“You mentioned that you’d rather be heading east than west. Does this help you with identifying our position relative to your world?”

The three of them studied the map, unfamiliar in form as it was to them. Merrill started poking and prodding at the holographic shapes, and it started turning and zooming, all the while as Isabela and Zevran tried to make sense of it all. Finally, Isabela pointed at one of the peaks on the eastern edge of the forest, bordering the sea to the north.

“There. _There’s_ the White Spire, namesake of the Orlesian Circle of Magi. There _should_ be a village to the south of it, from which we can make our way south to report to Josie that I’ve gone and broken her caravel.”

Ashley smiled. “Excellent. It’s not far by foot, is it?” 

“No further than we walked today.” Suddenly, Isabela pouted. “But really, are you so eager to be rid of us that soon? We’ve just met, Commander.”

The beginnings of Ashley's halting reply were cut short when the pirate captain broke into a smile, then a laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, Commander, you’re hardly the first emergency port-of-call I’ve run into. We appreciate a warm bed as much as anyone, but I think it’d be best if we went off to our separate worlds after all this.”

“Oh, right. Yes, of course,” Ashley stammered. “James will escort you back down to the cargo bay.”

James spoke up. “Uh, actually, Commander. Word with you privately?”

“No problem,” she said, back in her rhythm now. “Copeland, bring them to the elevator till I’m done with James.”

“Yes, ma’am”, the yeoman said, as he followed the three of them out of the room, the door sliding shut behind them.

 

“What is it, Vega?” Ashley asked, patiently.

James gazed down, figuring out how to best phrase what he was going to say. “Well, Commander, the thing is I think you and I both know we’re going to be in for the long haul here. And I just want you to know, we’re all behind you, and you know Shepard would’ve wanted things done this way.”

“What’re you getting at, James?”

“Truth be told, Lola, has anyone been up to the Commander’s room since?”

Ashley blinked at James. “No, nobody. We haven’t really had the time…”

“Well, not that it’s ours to give, but it’s yours, Commander. I mean, if you think it’s too weird…” James said, scratching the back of his neck, “…but seeing as you’re CO now, it’s only right, we felt. Chain of command and all.”

“Thanks, James,” Ashley said, smiling. “We’ve been so busy putting everything back together I hadn’t even thought of that. I’ll go up and take a look. Anything else?”

“No, ma’am,” he said, saluting. “Hell of a day, isn’t it?”

“It’s been a hell of a time ever since Vancouver, Vega. 

“Damn right. Hope they’re fine out there.”

Ashley felt a sudden weight on her shoulders as James left the room for the security corridor. She’d managed to touch base with most of her family in London, but of course there’d been no way of contacting anyone after Shepard had done whatever he’d done up on the Citadel. She said a quick prayer, before going through the repair reports once again.

The Normandy wouldn’t be space-worthy in months. Months in which anything could happen out there. Maybe things would be better by the time they touched base. She could only hope, and pray.


	15. James, Isabela, Merrill and Zevran

James stepped out into the CIC, where Copeland had just finished trading some remark or other with Zevran. Evidently something that the bronzed elf had really liked, judging by his smirk. Isabela and Merrill also looked amused, or _worse_. God, they were incorrigible. Choosing to ignore the subtext, he made his presence known, and Copeland saluted him before heading off to finish his duties.

“Ladies, and Zevran.”

“James,” Isabela said humouredly, “we were just starting to miss you.”

“The pleasure’s mine too, _chicas_ ,” James said, calling the lift. It opened moments afterwards, and they stepped in, with the _Normandy_ ’s guests still peering at the interior of the elevator car.

“Guess they don’t have these here either?” he asked.

Isabela rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. We _have_ mineshafts in this country, you know.”

“Oh, right.”

“We’re still trying to figure out how you get the motors going with your…electric enchantment. We used to know this dwarf who had a knack for it, but even _he_ couldn’t get an entire engine running himself…as far as I know.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe Hawke had one of these in his mansion and just never told us.”

A tone indicated they’d arrived.

“We’ll call that our little secret,” James said. “This is where we part ways, Captain. See you tomorrow morning.”

She tilted her head at him. “My offer still holds, sailor. From the sounds of it, you can bring your pretty little yeoman down with you.”

He swallowed awkwardly. “From the sounds of it, I think I need to talk to him. _Now_.”

“Ooh, now that’s the spiri-

They were interrupted by Dr. Michel’s voice on his omni-tool.

_“Chloe to James. Once you’re done escorting our guests, kindly report to the sickbay.”_

Peering down at his wrist, Isabela drawled. “Didn’t know you were already spoken for.”

“Patient-doctor confidentiality, ma’am.”

Winking, she said, “You can bring her too. I always did like Orlesians.”

“Good night, Captain,” he said tersely, then to the other two, “and good night too.”

With that, he hit the CLOSE button on the elevator as fast as he could. Damn that _chica caliente_ and her gaggle of paramours. As much as he’d like to get more than eyeful – or two – he knew that Ashley’d have him strung up faster than he could say “regulations”.

Besides, apparently Dr. Michel had already booked him for the night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, hasn't it?


	16. Ashley

The doors of the elevator opened, revealing the exterior of Shepard’s cabin to Ashley. Drawing a breath, she stepped out, reaching out to the console in the center of the door panel.

It slid open, revealing his room. Funnily enough, she’d never really had the opportunity to take a look. She’d scuttled any chance of that on Horizon so long ago, and when everything started falling apart she’d never had cause to come up here; he’d always come down to talk to her, just like old times.

A scent wafted at her, and she racked her brains trying to recall what it reminded her of until she saw the portrait of Liara on his desk. Of course. Ashley idly fiddled with it, wondering if that was something she put on or it was some sort of natural asari scent. Well, it didn’t really matter; it wasn’t like she’d ever paid much attention to that sort of thing. Guess Liara’d been up here the night before they hit Earth.

Looking at the bed, made in its usual fashion – Shepard being a consummate professional even till the end – Ashley wandered through the room, passing the fish-tank on the left, miraculously still in one piece, although sporting some concerning cracks by the edges of the frame, and the empty armour rack. She sat on the edge of the bed, blankly staring at the short desk by its foot.

This had been a mistake. This place felt like a mausoleum.

She felt like she was walking through a sepulchre, or at the very least a museum exhibit. Hell, it was as though she was defiling the place even by sitting here. Somewhere, that self-same voice of doubt cried out, rebuking her for daring to even _presume_.

Commander Shepard was dead, and he’d left Ashley to take up the reins.

She’d been so busy setting things up and getting the Normandy fixed over the last 24 hours that she hadn’t really let that sentence sink in. God, no wonder Liara wanted to do nothing more than curl up in a ball and hide away. It was enough to bring down _anyone_.

Ashley lay back onto the immaculate sheets, staring up at the night sky, the stars fixed in place, as opposed to the red-blue-shift-blur of FTL, be it through their own mass effect field or the slingshot of the mass relays. Somewhere out there, people on Earth, people across the Galaxy, were picking up the pieces, and all wondering where the _Normandy_ was.

Even what had happened two-and-a-half years back couldn’t compare with this. Everyone had been so eager to sweep the Saren-Sovereign matter under the carpet, and herself along with all of it, that nothing much had been expected of her, and her assignments amounted to nothing much more than listlessly going between colonies. Now, it was going to be up to her to take the sky off Atlas’ shoulders once they made contact with the rest of the galaxy.

Well, first things first. No point fussing about all that until they actually made it off this planet, after all. Tough as it was to do, she’d also have to start acting Shepard’s part now to get everyone on the same page over the next couple of months.

She got up off the bed and headed back to the bathroom, rinsing her face in the sink and looking back up at it in the mirror.

Pausing for half a second, she did her hair up in its old bun. _There_. Now she felt like herself again.


	17. James and Chloe Michel

James lay on the medbay bed, stripped down to his dry-fit top and a pair of track pants, his knee getting uncomfortably close to his face.

Dr. Chloe Michel’s small but strong hands were firmly gripping his calf and the back of his knee as she worked his leg, slowly attenuating the dull ache due to his landing on chunk of a Mako during the beam run. Or the other way around. Either way, it had hurt _a lot_ and their emergency landing, crash or otherwise, really hadn’t helped.

Biting his lip until he couldn’t take it anymore, James started tapping the side of the bed, gently at first, then furiously as Dr. Michel wasn’t easing it off nearly as quickly as he wanted. Slowly, she released his leg, extending it back towards the end of the bed and placing his heels together. James exhaled, feeling the strain release with each breath.

With her usual unflappable manner, she picked up her datapad, logging various points about the physio session.

“How are you feeling, James?”, she asked, barely looking up.

Groaning, James massaged his hamstring. “Like hell, Doc. Swear I was already walking funny on that patrol today, god knows how I’m going to make it to my quarters now.”

Turning to him with a flash of anger that she was _just_ about to catch, she retorted, “Yes, nearly getting into a shootout with our new guests. I do wonder how many fireballs your armour would’ve been able to block before I’d have to stitch you up. Again.”

“Sorry, Doc. But Ash – Commander Williams – needed to scout out the area and besides EDI’s mobile unit there wasn’t much of a security contingent up for the job.”

Miming a defiant _tut_ , she said, “Nonsense. There was an entire section of marines on board, not to mention Privates Campbell and Westmorland, who spent the entire day walking circles in the forest around the ship. You _knew_ you were injured and you still chose to –

James sat up, a twinge searing through his lower torso. “I _chose_ to get off this bed and make myself useful. _That’s_ what I did. What’s it matter to you, anyway, Doctor? Ash knew I was up to it. Sorry, but lying in sickbay isn’t my thing, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here and listen to any more of your nag…”

He trailed off, realising he’d definitely crossed a line when he saw that she’d folded her arms, staring daggers through his head.

“I’m sorry. I-

“I think you’ve said enough, _Mr. Vega_. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow morning.”

Wincing again as he got off the bed, James shuffled to the door, defeated, and tapped it open. Before stepping through, he turned his head back, although not quite enough to look her in the eye.

“By the way, our new friends…they said your accent was ‘Orlesian’. Know anything about that?”

Chloe shook her head, staring at her monitor. “Absolutely not. I come from Geneva, not the Loire Valley. Good night, Mr. Vega.”

Mumbling a “ _Night_ ”, James stepped out into the deck, exhaling his lungs out and wiping his dry brow with the back of his hand as the door closed behind him. _God_ , it probably hadn’t been humanly possible to mess that up any further than he had.


	18. Ashley and Kaidan(?)

Ashley woke up to the dim lights in the crew quarters.

She rolled over, only to hit a block. A muscular, well-toned block.

Well, maybe calling Kaidan that was a bit unkind. He was gently snoring beside her, arm gently draped over her shoulder. Shifting the sheets, she noted that neither of them were clothed. Somewhere, the quiet beeping of a digital alarm continued, it being the culprit which had roused her from her sleep.

“Kaidan,” she muttered, softly digging her elbow into his side.

He slowly came back to the land of the living, breath escaping with an appreciative “ _Mrrmm_ ”, as he stretched his arms out, turning over to her and asking, “How do you feel?”

Ashley leant in, giving a him a quick but tender kiss on the lips. Smiling, she said, “Better than I have in a long while, soldier. Since… _Christ_ , since Eden Prime, really.”

Kaidan rolled away, giving her a little more room. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said, sitting up.

She laughed, playfully throwing her pillow at him. “‘ _I’m glad to hear it?!_ ’ I’ve seen right through your boy-scout routine, Alenko. I don’t know where the hell you learned _that_ biotic move from, but I don’t think I’ll find it in the BAaT curriculum.”

Ashley heard him audibly smirking, but when he turned around to face her he was solemn. 

“I meant it, Ashley,” he said. “It’s been nothing but a hellish roller-coaster ride since then, and I know _I_ sometimes think we’re all crazy, chasing the phantoms of Shepard’s imagination. At least we’ve finally cracked what it meant, thanks to Benezia’s daughter.” 

“Yeah,” she muttered. “Being proven right somehow feels _worse_.” 

Kaidan was smiling. “Well, it hasn’t all been bad.” 

“Oh? Name one upside.” 

“I got to know you.” 

The tension could’ve been cut with a knife. In the end, it was Ashley who caved in, laughing once again, with Kaidan following soon after. 

“Charmer. I bet you tell that to all the girls.” 

He quickly responded, “Only the pretty ones.” 

“And _that_ too.” 

Kaidan got off the bed, scouring the floor for his discarded clothes, passing Ashley’s to hers on the bed as they began going through the motions of force-preparation. They’d be hitting the relay within the hour. 

Doing her hair up, Ashley asked, “Kaidan?” 

“Mm?” 

“Why _did_ you come down tonight?” 

He was staring into the distance as he slipped on one of his pant legs, almost as though he could see right through the bulkhead in front of him. 

“I had a feeling.” 

Ashley raised her eyebrow, staring obscenely at the environs of his belt-buckle. “Oh, _that_ kind of feel-” 

He shook his head, still looking away as he did it up. “No. Not just _that_. I somehow had the feeling that…if I didn’t say this now, I wouldn’t have much of a chance. I know how I felt, and I _guessed_ I knew how you did, but I…well, I needed to know.” 

“Well…I’m glad to hear it,” she said, pulling her top back on. 

“Heh. I’m glad too.” Kaidan turned to her, sitting back on her bed. “Ash, no matter what happens when we get there, just so long as you know I lo-” 

“No.” She pressed her index finger firmly to his lips. “Not like this. Out of everyone on board, you’ve done the most to make me feel welcome, and I’ll always appreciate that. And…I know how we both feel, and believe me, nothing would make me happier than hearing you say _that_ , but not now. When this is all over, and we can look at something further than just tomorrow. I’m sorry, but…” 

He took her hand in his own. “You don’t have to apologise for feeling this way. Not ever.” 

The ship’s intercom sounded, interrupting them both. “ _Commander Shepard to ground team. Comms room in fifteen minutes._ ” 

Ashley pressed her receiver. “Acknowledged, skipper.” 

“Aye-aye, sir,” Kaidan said, responding in turn as he got up. “See you on the other side, Ash.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

But even as the words left her mouth and he stepped away, the room around her fell away, revealing the verdant vistas of Virmire, so marred by smoke and fire, with Kaidan wearing his armour now, looking into the skyline past the anti-aircraft cannons. Ashley saw him as though from a great distance, but she still could make out his profile. 

And even though she knew what the last thing he’d said to her was – _God be with you_ –  staying on the radio even as she was practically slung over Shepard’s shoulders as she was led away from the salarian bomb, she saw Kaidan’s lips form _those three words_ silently, then smoothing into a contented smile as a wall of brilliant white energy erased everything… 

* * *

Ashley woke up to the dim lights of the captain’s cabin, and the dull drone of the alarm in Shepard’s stereo system.

She rolled over, easily reaching the edge of the empty bed.

Slowly shuffling her feet over to the floor, Ashley planted her elbows on her thighs. She hadn’t dreamt about Kaidan in – well, a long time. Maybe it was being here, not just on the _Normandy_ , but in Shepard’s own quarters, that had brought it on, or maybe it was the vast greenery of this planet which had reminded her of Virmire, or both, or neither. Hell, Javik had said something about people’s imaginations being stronger on this planet or something, hadn't he?

She didn’t know. Glancing at the clock’s digital display, she saw that it’d sounded exactly on schedule, 1.5 standard hours before the calculated sunrise would on this planet, extrapolated from EDI’s previous telemetry. 

After pondering her feet and the ground for a few long minutes, she got up, heading over to the bathroom. Time enough to freshen up before heading out of this forest to see what amounted to civilisation.


	19. Isabela, Merrill and Zevran

Isabela tried to roll over to her right, only to find Zevran on her shoulder, feet hooked around her ankles.

Rolling over to her left, she found Merrill, gently snoring on her other shoulder.

Isabela kissed her on the cheek, whispering into her ear. “Kitten, it’s time to rise.”

Eyes bleary, Merrill turned over to her, returning her kiss. “Morning to you too.”

Zevran was awake and alert in less than a second, sitting up on his end of the bedroll. “I see our guest went and retired for the night.”

Looking about her, Isabela confirmed his observation. “Hm. Quite so. I suppose Ser James’ talking-to wasn’t quite enough to dissuade him. Just as well. Eager young thing, wasn’t he?”

Merrill said, staring up at the ceiling, “I wouldn’t know, I slept right through it.”

On the other side of Isabela, Zevran said, “You know, Merrill, you’re always welcome to-

“No,” she said firmly.

He shrugged, “Well, so goes the case for equal representation of the sexes in our games. You’re both hardly likely to see him again after tomorrow. And, I should add, neither am I.”

“Zevran!” Isabela had blanched a full shade.

The elf furrowed his brows, combing loose hair from his face as he addressed her, both still unclothed under one of the _Normandy_ ’s spare sheets. “I think you’ve known this was coming since we were sunk by the qunari, Isabela. If you’re going to Antiva City to tell your boss that we’ve lost her caravel, I am decidedly _out_.”

“Where will you go?”, she asked, turning to face him.

He shrugged. “Well, I think we can rule out Tevinter, if the horn-heads have made landfall. I’ll take my chances with _your_ homeland. There are _plenty_ of places to disappear there. And maybe I’ll find another ship – one which doesn’t travel the Veneficiation Sea, preferably.”

Isabela kissed him on the cheek. “You’ll be missed.”

“Night and day,” he said with a wink. “I’ll delay my departure till after we reach Brynnlaw, though. I should hardly like to imperil your reputation with Commander Ashley.”

“Oh yes,” Isabela remarked, “Captain Man-Hands’ estranged sister. She did say that we’d make our way there starting at sun-up. Anyone see a window?”

Merrill peered around the cargo bay, shaking her head. “No, but I think she said she’d send her lieutenant Ser James down here about an hour before then.”

“Seeing as he isn’t here yet, I reckon we still have a few minutes yet,” Isabela said. “Enough time to give you a goodbye kiss, Zevran?”

“Oh, if you insist, Isabela,” he said, leaning in to kiss her on the lips, hands travelling south to grip her by the waist. Over on the other side, Merrill was gathering her clothes, finding some corner to get dressed.

“I’ll…I’ll go and wake the others.”

“Mm?”, Isabela asked, peering over her shoulder. “Oh, yes, good idea, kitten.”

 

With a few soft steps, she’d rounded the stack of crates and was going up to each crewman to gently rouse them. Isabela and Zevran carried on, grasping at each other’s limbs.

 

Zevran broke off their third or fourth kiss, commenting, “She gets jealous, you know.”

Isabela blinked. “I know. But I’ve been respecting her wishes.”

“Well, thus far,” he said, then suddenly chuckling to himself. “Monogamy, of a sort. It’s a new look on you, ’bela.”

“What can I say? People change,” she replied. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I’ll make it up to her when we get to Antiva.”

They kissed again, and Isabela moaned as his strong thumbs gripped her hips, guiding her towards his own.

“Take care of her, Isabela.”

“I always will. And…take care of yourself. You know how to find me.”

He smiled. “I always do. Now then, let’s make the best of our remaining time before we’re forced to leave this wonderful heated hull, no?”

“Thought you’d never get to it,” she said, kissing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that new teaser, huh?


	20. Kelly Chambers and Samantha Traynor

“I don’t want you to go.”

Kelly Chambers, former yeoman on the SR-2 while it was a Cerberus ship, was getting her boots on, having taken one of the _Normandy_ ’s spare uniforms after she’d come on board. Samantha Traynor was sitting on the edge of their bed, slipping her trousers on.

Kelly turned to look at Sam as she did her laces. “We talked about this last night.”

“I know we did.”

Kelly shook her head. “Coming back here was a mistake.”

Sam stared at her icily.

“You know I didn’t mean it that way,” Kelly said, continuing, “Look, I’m really glad I met you, but if I’d known you were working for Shepard…”

“…you’d never have gone up to his apartment with me,” Sam said, finishing her thought.

The blonde blinked, eyes already damp from the bitterness of what was to come.

Sam continued, “I’m sorry, Kelly. If I’d known he’d already approached you, I wouldn’t have put you in the spot I did.”

“No, I made my decision,” she said. “Seeing everyone at the party afterwards made me realise how much I missed them. Just to be able to work with them again, right at the forefront of things…I practically jumped at it. Thank you for giving me that chance, Sam.”

The two looked at each other, with no anger marring their gaze, yet the tension still lingered.

“But…”

Kelly allowed herself a wry smile. “I was right when I told Shepard I’d best stay away from the _Normandy_. The moment I got on board, I knew.” Feeling the tear rolling from the corner of her eyelash down her cheek, she continued, “I can’t even walk into that _fucking_ elevator without thinking of those damned Collectors dragging me in there to…to-”

Sam caught Kelly as she broke down, sobbing into her shoulder, holding her in a tight hug as Kelly’s limp hands let her top flop down on the floor.

“It’s okay,” she said, “It’s okay.”

Kelly broke the embrace, wiping her tears dry. “I thought I could help here. But even if you changed the ship inside and out, it still reminds me of too much. After Thessia, I tried to reach out to Dr. T’Soni, but the way she looked at me, I was lower to her than dirt on her heel. Maybe she was jealous of what I’d done for Shepard when we were chasing the Collectors. I don’t know.”

Sam gently took her by her wrist as Kelly picked up her top, putting it on methodically.

“That’s why I wanted to go. I think that I’d at least be more useful out there than holed up in here, like you’re best at fixing this ship so can leave,” she said, once she’d freed her hair from her collar. “Besides, we’ll be in contact on our omni-tools, and the shuttle’s working again already if we get in a tight spot.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Sam said. “Just…be safe out there, Kelly.”

They embraced again.

“I will,” Kelly said, turning to the door and leaving Sam in the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this iteration, Kelly spent some time off at the Silversun Strip and walked in on Sam playing Kepash-Yakshi.


	21. James and Chloe

James’ morning examination had been a practically monosyllabic affair, with the exchanges comprising mostly “Does it hurt here?” and “Yes” or “No”, depending, with he and Chloe for the most part not even bothering to look each other in the eye.

In the times between specific checks, they both had considered going beyond that, but each time, the words caught in their throats. James knew that he’d been in the wrong and that her concerns were all valid and it was just pride that was keeping from sucking it up and saying as much to her, but that knowledge wasn’t quite enough to _make him do it_.

For Chloe’s part, she’d mostly deferred to her absent colleague, Dr. Karin Chakwas, on her expertise in handling choleric marines, all biting at the chance to go right back out into the fray and get injured all over again. She paused for a moment in her datalogging, realising that Karin had been on the Citadel last she knew, still managing the flood of patients streaming into Huerta and the masses left in the holding areas.

God, what had happened to them all when the Reapers sealed it closed and dragged to Earth? It was enough to give her pause.

In fact, enough pause for James to break into her thoughts. “Uh, Doc?”

She realised she was still staring blankly into a static display, even as he added, “Doc, will that be it? I, uh, have orders to get the native crew moving.”

“Yes, Mr. Vega,” she said, shaking herself back into consciousness. “You may carry on.”

He sidled off the sickbed, dropping to his feet. Scratching the back of his head, he tried to let the words come to him.

“They’ll be going to that village to the east, but Ashley’s leaving me in charge here, along with Adams and Cortez. So, uh, I won’t be going with them, is what I’m saying.”

_Great. Real smooth. Clear as crystal._

Dr. Michel put her datapad down, turning around to face him. James felt his breath catch in his throat.

“I’m glad to hear that, James. If landing here in the middle of this forest paradise wasn’t enough to get you to relax a little, I don’t know what I could prescribe.”

He let himself smile. “Maybe you’re right, Doc. God, I can’t believe it even when I see it again. We’ve been going through nothing but bombed-out streets for so long, and even when we went somewhere nicer-looking, it’s not like we could linger and take pictures.”

She folded her arms, this time with nary a sign of annoyance or asperity. “Well, now’s your chance.”

“Yeah, figure it is.” He made towards the door. “See you around, Doc. Staff meeting right after the pirate crew’s gone.”

“Understood. And, James?”, she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Please, call me Chloe.”

He nodded at her, winking. “Yes, ma’am.”

So satisfied he was at getting that last word in, he nearly collided with Copeland, who was carrying a small vial of liquid in a ziploc bag in a slightly concerned fashion. Shrugging his shoulders, James headed to the elevator. Even if he could guess what that was about, it _really_ wasn’t worth testing the limits of doctor-patient confidentiality there.


	22. Ashley and Isabela, James and Steve

About an hour later, the crew of the _Auric Hind_ was assembled outside the _Normandy_ , with what amounted to their belongings bundled up in sacks and packs at their feet or slung on their shoulders. Standing before them was Ashley, dressed in her armour and accompanied by Privates Campbell and Westmoreland, also suitably attired. Kelly was making her way out, carrying a small duffel bag with her own supplies.

After a great deal of discussion among the senior staff, it was decided that Ashley would be best suited to conduct reconnaissance without causing _too_ much of an interspecies stir. The reception that EDI, Garrus, Tali and Javik had received from the _Auric Hind_ crew was testament enough to that and James, true to his word, was staying behind to coordinate perimeter defence while Adams and Cortez led repairs, leaving Ashley leading a three-man section as far as the village.

Or three-woman section, as it’d turned out; Donna and Penny practically begged their commander to let them do _something_ besides man a door that wasn’t even working now, and Ashley had grudged them that much, figuring that their armour and shields would be more than enough against the range of tech they’d seen so far. Miss Chambers had received the testimony of the previous crew and was tagging along as their diplomat; given everything, spending some time outside the _Normandy_ was probably best for her.

Isabela, Zevran and Merrill were waiting in what amounted to their full gear, making Ashley and her squad look positively overdressed. At least that pirate lady had at some point in the morning been sold on the merits of yoga pants, and she was still admiring their snugness as Ashley approached the three of them.

“You know, Serah Ashley,” she said, doing up their waistline, “if your crew’s ever short on money you’d make a _killing_ selling these. They’re _so_ comfortable, and _so_ flattering.”

Smirking, Ashley said, “We figured you guys were operating on a barter economy, so we brought more so we could trade for something of a more local flavour. I take it your blacksmiths buy raw materials too?”

The three Thedosians glanced at each other, recalling all the times they’d dumped a whole ton of shiny junk and debris (sometimes picked up from people they’d fought and killed not hours earlier) on unsuspecting merchants all over Ferelden and Kirkwall for some meagre coin, all nodding in unison as a response to Ashley’s question.

“Good”, she said, “because we’d also like to pass you some to set you on your way, seeing as I figure you lost most of what you had with your ship.”

Campbell and Westmoreland passed them some unexpectedly heavy sacks of minerals, and their eyes widened as they investigated their bags, stammering out some quick words of gratitude.

Ashley explained, “I don’t know what you call these here, but we use platinum, palladium and iridium in our engines, and I know it’s also used for jewellery and the like.”

Looking up from her satchel, Merrill asked with wonder, “How _did_ you find all of these? This is…well…it’s _a lot_.”

Ashley replied, curling her lip, “Well, any ship of our kind keeps some for maintenance and fabrication purposes, but I’ve never seen as much of the stuff before I got onboard the _Normandy_. Shepard…the previous commander of this ship…was hoarding it for reasons I can’t fathom. Most of it went around to other ships during the war, but we’ve always had a bit of a bloated stock.”

While Isabela and Zevran were exchanging looks, probably both trying to figure out how much more they could have scored if they’d snuck around the ship at night instead of rigorously extending diplomacy to their guest aboard the _Normandy_ , Merrill had fixated on one of Ashley’s last points.

“You were in a war? Fought between the _stars_?”

Realising she’d let slip a bit too much, Ashley said, “Something like that. It was about to end when we crashed, and we’re looking to get back to see how bad the damage is.”

She’d regained Isabela’s attention. “About that, Commander Ashley. We’re…somewhat _uniquely_ open-minded amongst people from around here, so while we’ve absorbed the talk of the flying between stars as best as we can, it just might be a bit too much for the villagers and their more limited world-views.”

“What do you propose?”

“Well, we first thought you might have been from the Anderfels – that’s another country far to the northwest of here, so you might go with that. Nobody takes all that much notice of small armed troops like yours in Antiva unless you’re about to walk into some noble’s castle, so you’d pass off as a mercenary band with those weapons and armour you’ve got.”

Ashley thought it over for a moment. “Sure, we can say we’re from the ‘Systems Alliance’ and crashed here on our way from the Anderfels. Think that’ll work?”

“It’s as likely to as anything else,” Zevran said, shrugging his shoulders. “Shall we, then?”

“Lead the way,” she said, as her party followed the stranded _Auric Hind_ crew eastwards into the sunrise and in the direction of the White Spire, where they’d find the village of Brynnlaw.

* * *

James, standing in the open shuttle bay doors, watched as Donna and Penny waved goodbye, blowing lewd kisses at him as the followed the small convoy. Steve Cortez wandered next to him, wiping shuttle grease off his hands.

“They love you, Vega, you know that?”

James turned to him, rolling his eyes. “Hyperactive little things that kiss and tell, _Esteban_ , that’s what they are.”

“There _is_ a plus to this whole situation, I realised.”

Eyes narrowing as he did so, James asked, “And what’s that?”

Steve laughed. “They’ve got a whole new world to tell on you falling asleep right in the middle of—

James turned around abruptly, snorting. “Now that _they’re_ gone, you’ve got to remind me too?”

“Fixing a shuttle gets boring, Vega,” Steve said, giving him a solid slap on the back. “Now come on, I’m sure with those two gone you’ll have to reshuffle the guard roster, or something. Wipe off that scowl, James, you’ll be missing them before long.”

“Hmrph,” James muttered, still scowling.


	23. Garrus and Tali

Watching from further back in the shuttle bay were Garrus and Tali, the first aliens that the _Auric Hind_ crew had ever lain eyes on, putting aside semantical issues on how alien EDI was.

Tali sighed, “Keelah, I’m glad that’s done with.”

Garrus made an appreciative growl. “Not the biggest fan of our new guests?”

Tali wiped her visor, imitating a gesture Shepard had made many times, specifically pinching the bridge of his nose whenever things hit a threshold. “The first thing they did was call us a pair of ‘demons’, and then they started tracking their germs into the ship…I shouldn’t even linger here too long until they’ve broken the disinfection kits out. I’m not about to die from dysentery on… _wherever this is_ …right after winning Rannoch back.”

Garrus nodded, saying, “Too true. I’m sure Palaven’s fixing itself up already, but my family’s going to be worried sick until I get a message back. Speaking of which…”

The quarian shook her head. “We can transmit all right, but it’ll just diffuse into the aether unless we get in range of a listening post or a QEC. Like it or not, Vakarian, it’s just us and whatever weird humans they’ve got on this planet.”

“Well, I hope you like turian rations, Tali, because it might be all we have for now. Assuming that the locals _are_ levo-humans like our colleagues, but I get the feeling that the balance of probability isn’t in our favour. Not this time, anyway.”

“I’ve got some of my own, obviously, and we might get Dr. Michel to rig a fabricator to make dextro yoghurt at the lea…wait, how much food _did_ you bring?”

Garrus smiled at her. “As much as I could fit in the main battery once I figured I’d be here for the long haul. There’s always the old canard of packing twice as much as you _think_ you’ll need, no matter how long or how short the mission. So I packed thrice as much. I think we’ll be fine.”

“Keelah, Garrus. To what extent _is_ the Thanix cannon padded with turian noodles?”

He snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tali. That’d throw the calibrations off. I just put it in the floor panelling.”

She stared at him. “ _Wonderful_. The day I run out of my own food I can look forward to eating out of your floor. Anyone tell you that you’re a great romantic, Vakarian?”

“Only you,” he said, smirking as he turned to her.

Tali gently leant in as Garrus pressed his forehead to her visor, reaching for her arms.

“Guess I walked right into that one,” she said as her hands wrapped around his waist, the two of them content to have just this moment.


	24. The Survivor, Hawke and Fenris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say "hi" to my theory on the protagonist of DA4.
> 
> We'll get to know him better in due course.

“He’s alive.”

“Barely.”

Hawke and Fenris were crouching by what remained of Sutherland’s merry band, tilting his head to avoid him choking on his own blood. It had been a massacre. Once Calpernia had enacted her coup, all bets were off concerning the Inquisition’s activities in Tevinter, and they’d learned just how quickly allegiances flipped over there once the lynchpin of their help in Minrathous had been violently pulled out.

This couldn’t have been a unique instance. All over Tevinter, Inquisition forces were being betrayed and hunted down by vengeful Venatori, and it wouldn’t be long before guards would be marching lockstep to root out any last trace of these damned meddling Southerners, and anyone who had even considered _helping_ them.

Hawke had seen whole armies at Skyhold. How many of them had stayed on after the Inquisition’s official disbanding? And how many had signed up for this northern expedition of theirs against the Venatori? And how many were now paying the price?

Idealists, all of them. And what good had that done them now? Hawke mused that he’d once been no different, thinking that by adopting a title, and acting like that meant anything, he could solve all of Kirkwall’s problems.

Looking at the body below him, which was slowly stirring into consciousness, Hawke saw himself, or a less lucky version thereof. At least he had Fenris here with him and knew that Varric and Aveline were safe and sound back in Kirkwall, his sister was with Sebastian in matrimonial bliss and that Merrill was as comfortable as could be aboard Isabela’s ship. And Anders…Anders had paid the price of idealism. Who did this poor soul have?

“He’s coming to,” Fenris observed.

“Quick,” Hawke ordered, “get me a spare potion.”

Fenris growled, “Don’t _you_ carry those?”

Hawke glared at his companion as he fished through his own pack, finding the vial of blood-red elfroot extract before long. Checking for breathing, he angled the mouth of the vial at the back of the survivor’s throat, pressing his fingers on the side of his trachea to ensure that it was going down the right path. Even with the poetic irony, it’d be a bit of a shame if he’d crawled here this far only to choke on a elfroot potion.

The sole survivor of the ambush awoke, coughing and choking, slowly and painfully coming to as he sat up. The marks on his face identified him as a Rock-Knocker, the Kal-Sharok version of the Legion of the Dead, and judging by the twin daggers and crossbow he had been wielding until he was finally overcome by his assailants, he’d been trained as a skirmisher of sorts.

His bleary eyes focused quickly, and his vision wheeled between the human and elf before him, and he stumbled, falling back on his rear as he tried to spring to his feet, wildly grasping for a weapon – any weapon he could find. Fenris planted his feet, lyrium glowing.

Hawke opened his hands, showing the empty palms of his gloves to the survivor. “It’s alright. You’re safe. Well, that’s a relative term, but the Venatori are dead, and there don’t seem like there’s more coming _right now_ , but we have to move.”

The dwarf grabbed at his temples, trying to focus. “You…Hawke…”

He nodded. “One and the same, formerly of Kirkwall. We were to be your contacts to get the slaves out, but we smelled a rat.”

Fenris muttered. “Change of management in Tevinter, it seems.”

Looking around him, the rescued agent asked, “The others…?”

Hawke shook his head. “…I’m sorry.”

The dwarf exhaled, as though deflated. “Rourke…Tasallan…Shokrakar…hell, even the boss and his crew. Chief _died_ so the others could get me out of there. What do we do now?”

Fenris said, “Leave.”

“Curt as that is, it’s true,” Hawke said, looking over his shoulder. “Come on, we won’t be safe here much longer. We’ll make for Tantervale, and head downriver to Starkhaven. Time to pay my dear sister a visit; it’s been a while since our last family reunion.”


	25. Ashley and Kelly

Ashley and Kelly were staring at the one bed in their room at the inn.

“Well…” Ashley admitted, “…can’t say I’ve never heard this one before.”

Kelly bit her lip. “I _could_ sleep on the floor.”

“Not a chance. You take the bed, Chambers.”

“Ma’am?”

Ashley shrugged. “You’re a civilian, I’ve slept on my fair share of hard floors. Besides, it puts me between whoever’s going to jimmy the lock and you.”

The blonde crossed her arms. “I’ve seen my share too, down at the refugee docks, ma’am. You don’t need to pamper me.”

Smirking, Ashley said, “You might not be thanking me later anyway. God knows how filled those things are with bedbugs.”

“Gee, thanks, ma’am.”

Glancing at her as she laid out a bedroll, Ashley said, “That’s ‘Ashley’ to you, Chambers. Hell, even ‘Ash’ if it suits you.”

“'Kelly' will do for me,” the blonde replied, flipping the corners of the old mattress and checking them for insects. “And, uh, ma’- _Ashley_ , I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Just because you didn’t see the bugs now…”

Kelly shook her head. “Not the bed-floor thing – the jury’s still out on that one. I meant trusting me enough to take me with you.”

“If you were good enough for Shepard, who am I to argue?” asked Ashley. “And, well, if he told you anything about Horizon you know that works the other way too. I’ve made my mistakes and I’ve tried to use my time fixing them.”

“Thank you, nevertheless,” Kelly said. “I heard a little bit about why Cerberus put me on the Normandy. I think I’m just disappointed in how simply the Illusive Man thought, populating the ship with friendly faces. And…I didn’t really think just how much he was _using_ me. All that talk about my talents and being the best of humanity, and all he wanted was a pretty face by the galaxy map for Shepard to flirt with.”

The blonde sighed, kicking off her boots and sitting up on the bed, curling her knees up and planting her forehead on them. Ashley stripped off her armour, changing into her casual kit; the coin they’d gotten from bartering their precious metals had been more than enough for two rooms, each facing the other, along with some more contemporary clothes, but she was in no rush to experience the joys of sleeping in muslin.

She looked at Kelly, who now was propping her chin up on her knees, sounding the unasked question in her head. _But it worked, didn’t it? Isn’t that why Liara hasn’t ever said a single word to you from when you came on board till now?_ Nagging in the back of her mind as it was, she knew it was the last thing the erstwhile yeoman/therapist needed now.

Just about registering that Kelly was looking back, Ashley caught her saying, “Heh. You think Campbell and Westmoreland are pouring their hearts out in the room opposite, Ash?”

Her lip curling into a smile, Ashley replied, “They’re probably painting each other’s nails and giggling about James right now or something. The two of them are inseparable.”

“What’s the story about that, anyway?” Kelly asked, continuing, “I was…elsewhere…for most of the night.”

“Hell if I know, Kelly,” Ashley said, “Best I can figure is that Mr. Vega would’ve had a hell of a night to remember if he’d skipped a shot. Or four. Or fourteen. Now all he’s got is a big blank, and two tittering privates wherever he goes.”

Trying and then failing to suppress her mirth, Kelly finally managed, “Heh. Tittering privates.”

The two women burst into laughter, Ashley reaching for the lamp they’d gotten when they checked in to the tavern.

“You’re alright, Kelly,” she said. “Still hunting for bugs?”

“Not for now. I’ll take an extra sweep in the decontamination chamber when we’re back. Along with all my clothes.”

“Good luck with that,” Ashley said, blowing out the light.


	26. Dorian Pavus and Thom Rainier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update till after Christmas! Hope you guys enjoy.

“How do you feel?”

“Terrible,” Dorian grunted, shifting beneath the sheets.

“Could be a lot worse,” said the Grey Warden by his bedside.

Dorian blinked, adjusting to the minimal light in the room. He tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain in his sides, but no bleeding. Or _further_ bleeding, anyway. Someone had done a good job bandaging him up and applying a healing salve as far as he could tell.

“Well, if you were expecting me to say that seeing _your_ visage makes it all better…”

Thom Rainier, the man who had called himself Warden Blackwall for most of the past decade, chuckled. “Sounds like you’re your old self, even if you look worse than you feel.”

Dorian grabbed at his chin and around his lips, feeling a scraggly mess of stubble. “You’re right. Another week on the road and I think I’d be as bad as you.” Smiling, he continued, “For what it’s worth, I’m glad to be alive. Thank you, Blackwall…or is that Rainier now?”

“Thom,” the Warden said. “I’d like to think that after all this time we’d be friends enough for first names, Dorian.”

“That’s fair,” the magister said. “To what extent do I owe you for my miraculous recovery, Thom?”

“Me?”, Rainier asked. “Hardly anything. If you want to thank someone, there’s that dwarven merchant you threw twenty imperials at to get you here, and Valya, our healer.”

“But you’ve been the one keeping watch on me, haven’t you?”, asked Dorian. “Humble to the last, Thom. No matter what they say, you’ve always been the same.”

Thom’s smile was visible through his beard. “It’s appreciated. Now, I’ve been instructed to get you to drink this.”

As he reached for a small container, lifting its lid to release some steam, Dorian asked, “The finest cuisine the Anderfels has to offer?”

“Hardly, not that it’s much better. It’s a tonic brew courtesy of Valya. Come, drink it up.”

Wincing as he took the odour in, Dorian swallowed his cup’s worth in a single gulp, choking and spluttering with his customary _Vishante Keffas_ , finally washing it down with water.

Tearing at his eyes, Dorian asked, “I assume you haven’t just put me through the Joining?”

Shaking his head, the Warden replied, “Hardly. Darkspawn blood’s got more of an acrid tinge to it. Of course, if you’d like to sample _that_ , I’m now a fully ordained Warden, complete with Right of Conscription…”

Still working through the worst of the concoction, Dorian raised his palm, waving it in Thom’s face as though that would prevent it. “Blast you. Every time I try to frame you as the stolid type you just have to remind me that your favourite drinking partner was _Sera_.”

Thom laughed, before turning to Dorian grimly. “Speaking of which. Well, when you’re ready, that is.”

Dorian sighed, placing the mug by the bedside. “The Archon is dead, the Venatori have overthrown the Magisterium, and Calpernia has declared herself Censor of the Morals in Minrathous, with the Black Divine _sede vacante_. Maker only knows what the implications are for the Inquisition’s remnants in Vyrantium and the Silent Plains.”

Casting his eyes to the ground, Thom said, “I’m sorry. I understand you and Radonis were, if not friends, at least trusted colleagues. He was a good man…as far as Tevinter Archons go.”

“I did everything I could, Thom. I begged him to clamp down on the Venatori while he could, and not to split his forces when the qunari came. And it wasn’t enough.”

“Don’t blame yourself.”

Dorian’s eyes flashed. “I don’t. I blame the qunari and their collaborators amongst the Venatori. I should’ve known I could trust them as far as I could throw them since –”

Thom extended his palm. “Dorian. Don’t.”

Exhaling as he leaned back into the headboard, he said, “You’re right. It’s been a year. It still stings. Knowing that someone you loved and trusted was…well, wasn’t what they seemed.”

Gazing into blank space, Thom said, “No. It isn’t easy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was never your fault, and neither is this.” Shuffling in his seat before getting up, the Warden said, “I should report to the First Warden. Finish the rest of that and I’ll see to getting you more.”

“Thanks, I suppose. Send my thanks to that healer, even if this is the worst thing outside the Herald’s Rest I’ve _ever_ imbibed.”

“I’m sure Valya will appreciate that,” Thom said, making for the door.

“Oh, and another thing.”

“Yes?”

“Get me a mirror, a washbasin, and a damned razor. Some pomade if you’ve got any in this dingy ruin. I _do_ need to revert to my usual civilised demeanour.”

“You haven’t changed at all, Dorian,” said Thom, chuckling as he stepped out into the hallway.


	27. James, Chloe and Garrus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> My gift to you? AAANNNGGGSSSTTT

It’d been a couple of days since Ashley’s squad had departed, and seeing as everything was fine on both ends, James was being left in charge for the time being.

That suited him, given that he was still being put on light duties by Dr. Michel and there really hadn’t been much to do besides “repair the ship” and “patrol the perimeter while the others repair the ship” – he’d even given some of the crew shore leave on the condition that they reported in every hour and didn’t go any further west or north given what they knew of events around them. Except Copeland, whose rash was only fading just about now.

As for himself, he was where he was expected to be every morning, and where he had been for the last three days – on the sickbed, being attended to by Chloe.

“Your recovery is remarkable, Mr. Vega. You’ll be all clear for regular duties tomorrow.”

Smiling, James replied, “That’s great news, Doc.. _Chloe_. Can’t wait to get some fresh air out there. Say, _have_ you stepped outside the ship since we got here?”

Chloe shook her head. “No, not beyond the bivouac within our perimeter. Besides tending to you and Liara, I’m being rushed off my feet testing and developing antibodies and vaccines for the pathogens we’re encountering. Normally we never linger long enough for this to be an issue, but based on our timeframe it might be a concern. I’m glad you allowed me to collect samples from the shuttle bay before decontaminating it.”

James chuckled. “Well, that’d make one of you as far as I can tell. Most of the crew were skirting around it as though we’d spilled eezo all over the floor, most of all Team Dextro.”

“Team Dex…Ah, yes. Of course. Garrus, and Tali,” said Chloe. “Yes, I fear this ordeal will be toughest for them. I’m working especially hard to find some means of synthesising something for them besides dry rations and dextro yoghurt.”

“If I may make a suggestion, Doctor?”

Chloe raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“If you care that much, you could well grab an analyser, head for a hike outside and pick ingredients for them.”

“James?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Explore the great outdoors, walk along mountain ridges, pick mushrooms along forest paths? I don’t know, isn’t that what kids in Switzerland do when they’re growing up?”

Crossing her arms, she retorted, “…And is your sole source for this _Heidi_ , James? I grew up in the urban outskirts of Geneva. I don’t sing and dance with wild abandon with the peaks of the Alps in the backdrop, if that’s what you mean.”

Brushing aside that mental image, James said, “I’m pretty sure that’s _The Sound of Music_. And you _never_ were dragged out for some fresh air by your folks? Call of the wild, et cetera?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even my high school insisted we hike around Montreux,” Chloe said as she rolled her eyes. “Still, I suppose it has been some time since I last truly experienced, as you put it, ‘the great outdoors’. I _do_ have several analyses to run, though…”

Steepling his hands in front of him, dipping them downwards, James said, “I _could_ make that an order. Enforced shore leave, albeit a working holiday.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, _chica_. Besides the engineering crew and Liara, I think you’ve seen the least of this planet out of all of us. And even then _they’re_ getting a break tomorrow.”

After a short, tense, moment, Chloe waved her hand dismissively, saying, “Thy will be done, Lieutenant. I’ll head out first thing after lunch. On one condition.”

“Oh?”

Chloe stated, “I get to choose an escort.”

“I mean, I was hardly going to say that you’d be on your own…”

Pressing on the matter, she continued, “That escort being _you_.”

“I…well…” James stammered, before managing, “…you’re bringing forward my discharge?”

“For you, James,” Chloe said huskily, curling her lip into a glib smile, “anything.”

“Comedians, comedians all around me,” James grumbled, heading to the door. Turning around before he hit the door panel, he asked, “Speaking of which, I understand Liara’s recovering alright?”

Shaking her head and switching back to professionalism in record time, Chloe said, “Physically, yes. But I suspect she is in the opening stages of depression.”

“ _Depression?_ ”

“It is unsurprising. Shepard, her beloved, is as far as we know…” the word falling from her lips like a withered leaf, “…dead…her homeworld is in flames, and for all the good that being the Shadow Broker was before we hit Earth, she can’t use any of her resources while we’re stuck here. It would be enough to paralyse anyone, even someone as resilient as Dr. T’Soni.”

James paused. “Well, when you put it that way…is there anything we can do for her?”

“I’m not trained in treating psychological ailments, James,” she said, “and the only therapist is out with Ashley. Not as though Liara is particularly inclined to speak to Kelly.”

“Yeah,” James said awkwardly, “doesn’t take a Shadow Broker to figure that one out. Shepard never did Liara wrong though, but I doubt she’ll ever see it that way.”

Casting her gaze downwards, Chloe said, “At the very least she’s still been coming into the med-bay each morning. I’ll report on her condition to you daily and update you should it start affecting her physiology. Now then, if there isn’t anything else…?”

She trailed off as the med-bay door opened, revealing Garrus. Acknowledging him out of the corner of his eye, James saw that a total change had come across Chloe, from her professional demeanour through surprise to the shock of familiarity, and something more.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” the turian said, “but Tali’s fever is acting up again. Probably the foreign contaminants. I understand you’ve got a stock of boosters in here?”

“Ah, yes. Garrus. Of course.” Snapping out of her daze, Chloe turned to the cabinets, fishing out the necessary hypodermic syringes and medi-gel enhancements, bundling them into her hands, then a small fabric bag, moving past James to thrust them forward to Garrus.

As their hands brushed, James although trying to look elsewhere still caught that look in her eye, the same look that belied a thousand unspoken words. Chloe held Garrus’ gaze as long as she could, as though those few seconds could convey the vastness in time between his final, enigmatic, goodbye on the Citadel after the Sovereign incident and his sudden return to her life when she had been approached during the Reaper War for assistance aboard the _Normandy_ , bracketing an entire lifetime as Archangel and finding solace in Tali’s arms.

Barely even hearing his thanks, she glimpsed the mass of scars on the right side of his face as he left, and her eyes glistened just that much more under the harsh med-bay lights. How could she ever tell him that they represented her regret at being unable to keep him where he was, away from the hell of Omega, and that she pictured that same horror with every overzealous soldier in her sickbay, spurring her to strive that much harder to prevent the same – or worse – to those that she cared for, be they at Huerta or the _Normandy_?

She’d broached the topic just once with him, stating that the ship still had some of the equipment Shepard had used to manage his own reconstruction scars, but he’d just laughed and given a glib reply about how some found them attractive, and she couldn’t even bring herself to laugh along, later thinking herself judgmental for not being able to see past them like Tali could through her visor. Of course, it was all too late for that now.

Waiting for her to return to reality, James finally said, “Well, if that’s all, I’ll see you after lunch, Doc.”

“What? Oh, yes. Of course, James,” she responded, smiling through the moments-long anguish, much like how Garrus had back then in the face of her concerned enquiry.

With the door closed, Chloe collapsed back into her chair, closing the privacy shutters with the keystroke on the console, staring up at the ceiling with its harsh white lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be the last update of 2018. Hope you've all enjoyed the story so far!
> 
> I can also be found on https://athenril-of-kirkwall.tumblr.com/ , and I've started participating in the Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle over at http://dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com/faq .


	28. Ashley and Isabela

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> Sorry this one's a bit late. Hope you like the first proper action scene of this story. :D

“Well, here we are. Antiva City, Jewel of the East,” Isabela said with a flourish.

The fortified towers and the bustling docks and piers came into view just as their carriage rolled up the crest of the last hill between Treviso, the halfway mark of their journey, and Antiva City, where presumably they’d meet this “Josephine Montilyet”, the directrix of Isabela’s shipping company which had apparently very flexible employment standards.

Along the way, Isabela had explained that prior to taking up private commerce as a main line of work, Josephine had been none other than ambassador of the Inquisition, which was less like the red-robed torturers of Earth popular culture and more of a peacekeeping force like that of the 20th-century United Nations. The _Auric Hind_ folks’ incredulity at their not recognising that name was understandable given the magnitude of their achievements.

Down to the south, an ancient wizard responsible for what amounted to their Original Sin had re-emerged like it was the End Times and had managed to wreak havoc across some other countries called “Orlais” and “Ferelden” but someone who was their version of the Messiah (her title alternated between “Herald” and “Inquisitor”) had emerged from “the Fade” – that alternate dimension of intangible beings Javik had mentioned – and with their unique power over rifts between this world and the Fade, defeated this Cory-Face guy.

Thinking about it that way, it really seemed like something out of the _Books of Westmarch_ series, what with the apocalyptic threat being repelled through the power of a Chosen One. But in this case, it had been all too real. Then again, if she’d tried to explain what they’d gone through this past year, it’d probably read the same to them, with Shepard being as lofty – and implausible – a figure as their “Inquisitor”.

It just went to show, no matter the place or the time, weird shit always found a way of turning up, like it or not.

Ashley turned to Isabela, who’d closed the front of the carriage, asking, “So, what can we expect to find in Antiva City?”

“Romance, intrigue, and the occasional assassin,” the pirate answered.

“Assassins?” Ashley asked, “You mean like your ‘specialist’ Zevran?”

“Quite so. His former employers might seek us out, seeing as although he left their service nearly a decade ago, their professional pride demands his head. One does not simply ‘leave’ the Antivan Crows.”

Whistling, Ashley next asked, “Do you think they’ll seek us out?”

“Oh,” Isabela said carelessly, “almost certainly. But from what I can tell you seem like the kind who can carry themselves in a fight. Maybe your broad-shouldered Ser James could chuck them at each other, or even that bizarrely sexy golem…”

“ _She is not a golem_ -oh, never mind”, Ashley grumbled, “right. Guess our armour isn’t just for show then. Anything happens, Westmoreland, you get between them and Chambers over there. Campbell, spot targets and provide suppressive fire. Take it you’re pretty good with those daggers, Isabela?”

Seemingly producing two out of nowhere, the captain smirked at her. “You tell me, Serah Ashley. They won’t see me coming.”

Turning to the elf, Ashley asked, “And you, I assume you can chuck fireballs at them or something, Merrill?”

“That’s _one_ use of magic for sure,” Merrill answered, “and it seems to be the only kind people care about. Nobody really thinks about warming a building with fire magic, just burning it down. But yes, I’m babbling, if Zevran’s friends come calling they’ll have that to deal with.”

“Well…” Ashley said, “…good. Hopefully we’ll be able to handle what they throw at us.”

* * *

True to Isabela’s word, no sooner had they and the _Auric Hind_ crew disembarked at the city gates, paying the toll, taking in the very Renaissance aesthetic of the whole place, when easily a dozen assassins appeared as though from nowhere, ambushing them from front and rear right in the middle of the main street.

The crewmen, untrained in anything beyond the most basic brawling and swordsmanship, quickly ran for cover as Ashley, Campbell, Isabela and Merrill emerged to do battle with the Crows, who apparently were sending their regards according to their boss. As per her orders, Westmoreland grabbed Kelly by the shoulder, diving behind some crates.

“You all right?”, she asked Kelly as several arrows and a dagger lodged themselves on the other side of the boxes.

Kelly nodded silently, eyes nervously darting between the rooftops.

In the meantime, Ashley and Campbell were finding out just how effective longbows and throwing knives were against kinetic shields – that is to say, they were completely useless.

“It tickles,” Private Campbell said, laughing as an arrow bounced off her shoulder pads.

“Focus, Campbell! How many have we got on the roofs?”

“Three…five…wait, six. Multiple bogies on the ground. Got them on your motion sensor, ma’am?”

“Affirmative. Lay down suppressive fire while I draw a bead. I think Isabela and Merrill have their groundside forces contained.”

Ashley found a buttress to balance her elbow upon and swung her N7 Valiant up, marking targets through the VI on her scope. Campbell was right, six archers and skirmishers trying to set up a crossfire across a city block. They were figuring out that their bolts and arrows weren’t worth squat, and one of them was pulling out a nasty-looking flask.

Was it _bubbling_? Best not to find out what that stuff was. He went first.

With a loud _crack_ which tested the concentration mod, the flask exploded in the assassin’s hand, showering him and his spotter in some horribly acidic stuff. Ashley squinted as his horrible screams filled the air as he fell out of view. Thanks to the mods on this thing, it’d cooled down long before then, and his spotter was put out of his misery by a shot through the head. God, this rifle was good.

Her concentration was broken with a yell from Isabela. “Eyes up, Serah Ashley!”

She brought the scope down just in time to see a charging assassin, an enormous grey fellow who appeared to have a water-buffalo’s horns grafted to his forehead, swinging not one but _two_ curved swords towards her. His face was covered with a mask not unlike the beaked one of a medieval plague-doctor.

Ashley’s thoughts followed each other in rapid succession:

 

_Oh, that’s why they’re called ‘Crows’._

_Damn, Campbell must’ve missed him._

_Where’s my damned pistol?_

_Oh, hey there, Isabela. Isabela?!_

 

In less than three seconds, all these thoughts had run through her head, the last spurred by the pirate captain appearing as though by magic from a cloud of sudden smoke, delivering a flying kick right into the man-brute’s midsection and propelling off him in a perfect backflip, hurling two daggers into his chest as she did so, sending him stumbling further backwards.

So enthralled was Ashley by the acrobatics on display that she barely noticed that she’d already holstered her sniper rifle, replacing it in her hand with her M11A1 in all that time. Pulling off two quick shots, she pegged her hulking assailant with a bullet through each eyepiece, sending blood streaming down his black mask.

As he fell backwards like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Ashley whirled around to Isabela, who already was grappling with another opponent, who she dispatched with a spinning kick, sending him right into the path of yet another assassin, whose hesitation was rewarded with a savage slash across the throat from her knives.

“Isabela,” Ashley shouted, “the _hell_ was that ox-man?”

“A qunari,” Isabela explained, extracting her dagger from a fresh corpse, “or a Tal-Vashoth. Semantics thing. They come from the north and- _DOWN!_ ”

In response to her order, Ashley and Campbell hit the floor just in time to avoid an enormous fist made of stone hurling through the air past them right into another of those massive “qunari”, as Isabela had called them, crushing him against the wall of an unfortunate shophouse, which began to crack in a concerning fashion before the qunari slouched over, dead.

Turning her head to see where that had come from, Ashley saw Merrill blow some imaginary smoke off the end of her fingertips. Looks like fireballs weren’t all that she was good for. Some of the rooftop archers were making a break for it, but they didn’t get far before Ashley and Campbell picked them off one by one, with their leader, or their spokesman from before, getting winged in the leg and stumbling through an awning right into a fountain, into which he landed with a loud _splash_.

“Fish him out,” Isabela ordered, “and let’s send them a message.”

Not even stopping to correct her on who got to order whom around, Ashley gestured to Campbell, who dragged the assassin out by his arms, him coughing water out of his windpipe as they did so. He was a human, with a short mop of hair on his head, and scars which told of many fights before this one. Isabela shook her head as they prepared to turn him around to lean his back against the fountain’s edge, leaving him facing the water.

“Now then, _Crow_ ,” Isabela spat, “I think it’s time we had a talk. First, take a deep breath.”

The man turned to her uncomprehendingly, before she grabbed the back of his head and shoved in into the fountain water, contaminated with the usual city filth along with his own blood now. Watching as bubbles foamed to the surface as air escaped from his lungs, she counted the seconds before dragging his head out of the fountain.

Ashley grabbed her hand, hissing, “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

“I’m _sending a message_ , Captain Man-h… _Ashley_. Do you want these guys to be chasing us all the way to Josephine’s offices?”

“Well, no, but…”

Isabela turned to glare at her, pulling her hand free of Ashley’s grasp. “Then let me show you how things work in this part of the world.” Addressing her captive, she said, “Like I said, deep breaths.”

Giving him just a second, she thrust his head into the fountain water again as Ashley and Campbell watched in disgust, while Merrill was just trying to avoid seeing any of it. Seconds afterwards, she dragged him out forcefully, flipping him around so that they were face-to-face as she held him up by his wet collar.

“Now that we’re all freshened up, I need you to listen to me.”

Still short on breath, the assassin leader could do nothing but nod in response.

“Word for word, to whomever you report to, I need you to repeat this. Zevran Arainai is no longer an employee of the Montilyet Shipping Company. However, I still am, and if you or colleagues so much as touch a hair on my head you’ll have _her_ to deal with, and probably the full force of what’s left of the Inquisition.”

He nodded mutely.

“He is no longer affiliated in any way, shape, or form, with the vessel _Auric Hind_ , sunk off the northern coast of Tevinter earlier this week.”

More nodding.

“He left my company several days afterwards, and if you’re looking for directions, I suggest Rivain. Or maybe Par Vollen. If you can’t find him in either, keep going east and don’t stop until you’re across the Amaranthine Sea. Just stop bothering me and my crew.”

One nod.

“One last thing.”

He raised his eyebrow in question.

“You can tell your employers who gave you these fresh scars.”

Eyes widening in panic, he asked, “Wait, what fresh scar-”

He didn’t have the opportunity to finish his question before he was turned around again, cheek pressed against the rough stone edge of the fountain. Just before she started using it as a scouring pad, and before Ashley’s hand, already darting out, could stop Isabela from torturing him further, he yelled out.

_“WAIT!”_

Isabela’s grip released a little bit. “Well?”

“Montilyet…”

She leaned in. “ _Yes?_ ”

“She-she’s not in town.”

“Oh?”

“Seleny…sister’s estate…birthday…”

Her eyes narrowed. “How long ago?”

“Yesterday…!”

“Thanks for offering that. And voluntarily, too.” Shrugging her shoulders, Isabela dropped him unceremoniously into the fountain, whereupon Ashley and Campbell quickly retrieved him, making sure he was still breathing before leaving him to dash from the scene.

“Well,” Isabela grumbled, “that was a waste of time. Maybe we’ll hear a little bit less from them now, maybe twice as much. If we’d just gone upriver we’d have beaten Josephine to her sister’s house. We can get some supplies here, but on the whole, I’d rather not linger about in the city unless you _like_ getting into more brawls.”

“I can tell,” Ashley said, surveying the scene. People were starting to stream in already, as though the episode of violence which had just occurred in the square was nothing at all.

Looking around some more, she asked, “Is this…normal to them?”

“Ha!” Isabela laughed. “That was _courtesy_. That’s the bare minimum when it comes to sending messages Antivan style, and a fight like that’s nothing compared to how many scraps you get into in Kirkwall getting just about anywhere at night. Or in Darktown. Come on, I’ll tell the crew to report to whoever Josie’s left in charge, and we can head upriver to Seleny.”

“Right,” Ashley muttered, looking to her omni-tool. Squad data indicated that Westmoreland and Kelly were alright, but it was worth it to check in on them. “Westmoreland? Chambers? Everything okay?”

The private’s voice came through. “ _All clear, skipper. Not a scratch on us. Kelly had…a bit of an episode, but I’ve got her taking deep breaths into a bag.”_

Her brow furrowed. “Understood. We’re heading out. Get a bit more food and find our carriage. If he bolted, find someone that’ll take us to Seleny. That’s _Suh-Lenny_. Just six of us, us four, Isabela, and Merrill. Ashley out.”

“ _Got it, skipper. Westmoreland out._ ”

Ashley frowned. Hopefully Kelly was all right. That experience might’ve brought back a few bad memories, of the Collectors, and of Cerberus. Isabela’s predictions weren’t exactly the most comforting either; they’d had a smooth ride so far till now, and if these Crows were going to send more of their guys against them she’d better relearn combat before she was dragged right back into it, and maybe this time without Westmoreland to protect her.

One thing was true, though. They really _did_ do things differently down here.


End file.
